Friday, August 16, 2013

natural tears

hey all, hello, my beloveds!

please excuse any typos -- and let's pretend than any spelling error i might make is due to a typo and not ignorance! -- as my vision is really, really weird right now.

monday's surgery went much better than i expected.  my go-to-guy doctor paved the way admirably, as i should have known he would.  they told me, "he really cares about you... we don't get that very often from PCPs." brought me to tears.  i care about him, too.

the nurse who was with me pre-op?  her sister has CRPS!  no, i am not rejoicing that her poor sister is suffering, but i was wonderfully relieved at not having to explain what CRPS is, and so on and so forth. and when the anesthesiologist, freaking out at the sight of my legs, began demanding TED hose and such, she politely shut him down while i was still getting a whiny "n-n-n-n-n-oooooo" out of my mouth.

she had the wonderful idea that they wait and do any repositioning or whatever until after i was unconscious.

truly, the traumatized person in the whole affair was the poor anesthesiologist -- i felt for the poor fellow but it took him no time at all to adjust once he had the necessary information and was from then on a prince! a peach!  a pear!

anyway, i can see very well in the distance with my right eye, but everything within 4 feet is a blur.  my left eye remains legally blind, near, far, and in-between.  i have six drops with 16 different delivery times, eye patchs, wrap around sunglasses, and several pairs of old glasses with lenses poked out, and most of the time just want to keep both eyes closed.

my pressures thus far have been acceptable, unexpectedly accepable!  she told me to be ready for emergency surgery should the pressure spike, but thus far this eye has been toeing the line as instructed. i speak to it in a firm voice, and deviations from the plan are not to be tolerated.

the next surgery will be the 26th, followed by pressure checks (and navigating the world's traffic -- all together now: "Poor Fred!"

CRPS has, of course, gone on a rampage.  for some reason, it's decided my left side will be ice cold and my right hot enough to fry the proverbial egg.  spasms galore.  my meds are very messed up, as i am on a jacked up dose of steroids, and a higher dose of fentanyl.  the ankle that felt pretty much "healed" is barking loudly as well as an area high on the right femur.  and, just for giggles, the hardware in my right elbow seems to be slipping.  i know.  it can't really do that, can it?

my hair is going in directions i've never imagined, pulled, pushed, smashed by glasses and elastics and cords and bed-head.  i scared myself when i glanced in the mirror this morning.

in cat news -- buddy thinks all of this eye paraphernalia is meant for him, and he is very close to clawing my operated eye out in an effort to get himself the eye patch.  the elastic is too much for his little entitled soul to withstand.  dobby is frightened by all of it but intrigued by the smell of the drops, the "eye bag" (a lovely bright purple plastic thing, made in china), and my many different ocular incarnations.  i do a passable pirate just for him, full of args and ahoys and mateys.  the headline feline news, though?  ms. marmy fluffy butt decided, i guess, that i needed her!  after about a solid year of being on her shyte list, she comes to me now quite often, for loving and *ack*-*ack* solicitous inquiries.  it has cheered me immensely.  i don't have to explain myself to these three.  they are sort of like... youse guys.  out there.

well, that's not true.  the feline triumvirate DOES demand explanations, prompt ones, too, and delivered in an acceptable patois of cat and the queen's english, with the correct *ack*-*ack* cadence when addressing the queen of queens, the Marmy.  dobby requires several iterations of "good boy" to be worked seamlessly into any conversation, but buddy the incredibly large maine coon "kitten" can get by for hours with a wink and an index finger wisely set aside the nose.  he's strangely subtle, that one. should you fail, though, to uphold your end of the subtle interlocutory exchange?  buddy will punish you by finding a way to sit on your face.

not always the greatest configuration after eye surgeries.

fevers are within normal fever limits, so i've not had to call about that.  but there are now chills, so i am trying to be wise.  sagacious.  smart.  savvy.  don't tell anyone but there is building pressure and pain in the RIGHT shoulder, as well as an increase in pressure (but not pain) in the left.  the left "former" shoulder. (i actually hit 101.8 and stared, giggling, at the instruction sheet carefully setting the limit for a call to the ophthalmologist at 100.  chortle!  as there is no pus streaming from mine blessdèd eyeballs, but there is audible CRUNCHING in each shoulder and an ungodly, unholy amount of pain in my right hip, i'm gonna go rogue and say... it's not the eye!)

that reminds me -- another blessing from monday.  they understood how to treat my left side, as in, not to hyperextend that arm, since it has no "girding." in fact, they braced it brilliantly, and i need to pay attention to how they did it and copy it here at home, as that's one of my worst sins -- extending that arm.

just on the basis of my high steroid dose, traffic duty, little sleep, and his ever ready presence with coffee and pizza (well... he does what he does best, y'know?  he's a blessing, he is):

all together now -- "fred is a saint!"

on the very, very down side, i finally clicked on facebook -- I DESPISE FACEBOOK -- only to find a days old message relating that my mom FELL in the nursing home, breaking her leg in three different spots, requiring surgery and pinning.  she is doubtless frustrated and depressed, frightened and weary. i wish i could be there, with my natural charm and vivacious wit.  i used to be pretty darned good at taking care of people and i would love to take care of her.

instead, i will wash the eyedrops out of my eyes with natural tears.

© 2013 L. Ryan

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