About two weeks ago, we hired a gardener. Well, she sort of hired us, which is a different entry that I’ll let Rob write. She is a neighbor who is trying to start a lawn service business and we’re her second client. She’s been working like a dog in our jungle of a backyard nearly every day since we hired her. While I was walking outside to check on her progress, I stepped on a rose thorn. Hard. I tried to dig it out but it was in there pretty well.
So I did what most people do. I posted it on Facebook and Googled “thorn removal”. Is this normal? Doesn’t matter. I soaked my foot multiple times, per websites specializing in this sort of thing. I begged my husband to get the thorn out. He tried. I cried. It really, really hurt.
The next day, I called the doctor’s office. I couldn’t really put weight on my foot and I was afraid of getting an infection. They got me in at 3:30 that afternoon. Our GP took one look at it and said, “Yeah, I’m not touching that. You’re going over to see a podiatry surgeon at the hospital. Let me see if he’s in.” And we were on our way to the hospital for a visit to the podiatrist.
We waited for about 45 minutes to get in and finally got into an exam room. The dr. jacked me up on the table, like a I was an Oldsmobile in for a tune up, and started digging. Much screaming ensued and I begged him to stop. A nice shot of lidocaine in the bottom of the foot and he started digging deeper. He wasn’t sure he got it all but thought he probably had. A few stitches later, I was sent upstairs for a tetanus shot and then back downstairs for an x-ray. Oh, and I was given the shoe of shame. A lovely surgical shoe.
Like this.
The weekend passed and my foot felt better. It was bandaged up so I was off of it as much as I could. And on Monday, the doctor called and said the x-ray was negative. But he wanted me to have an ultrasound to see if there was anything left in my foot. Lovely.
I had to call radiology 8 times before I got a human being on the phone to make an appointment. I was supposed to see the doctor on Wednesday morning so Tuesday afternoon, we headed back to the hospital for the ultrasound. I peeled the bandage off my foot and the ultrasound tech started her magic. It was more like torture because holy crap it hurt. And on the screen, she showed Rob a very clearly defined rose thorn. Damn!
We went back to the doctor the next morning and he walked in and said, “Sorry, it’s still in there. Did you eat yet?” Uh. Yes.
“Darn. You need surgery to have it out.” What? Now?
Thursday afternoon at 2:30. Be at the hospital at 12:30. No food, drink, gum or candy for 24 hours. Bleergh. At least there would be good drugs.
We arrived at the hospital on Thursday afternoon and waited. My mom came to sit with Rob and when he got up to wander around, they came to take me back.
Change clothes. Pee in a cup. Put on these booties and cap. Lay down on this bed. Start the IV. Take BP. Clean leg. See the doctor and finally they brought Rob back. He was afraid they’d taken me in without saying good-bye to him. Answer a million questions from the nurse and finally, the good stuff comes. Versed. Ahhhh.. the nurse called it tequila in a small vial. Indeed.
I woke up in the recovery room with a huge bandage on my foot and a nasty migraine. When they asked me how I was, I complained about my head. More good drugs. This time, Dilaudid. Oooooh. A few crackers and some juice. More Dilaudid for the headache. Sleeping. Lots of sleeping. Vicodin for the ride home and the sweating kicked in.
They got Rob and told him I was ready to go home but I was feeling awful. The wheelchair ride was terrible and the nurse gave me 2 bags for the ride home. I drifted off with the window down and finally, we pulled up in front of the house. Rob got out to turn on the lights and I threw up everything in my stomach. Nice.
Crutches. Loopy. Nauseous. Need the bed. Get the cat off of me. Sleep. Headache. Hungry. Thirsty. Caffeine? Please?
Rob ate dinner about 9pm. I had saltines. We both drifted off and I woke up in tears about 2am. Still had a headache but eventually, I went back to sleep.
The recovery has not been that bad. I’m not taking pain meds any longer and other than the crutches and the boot of shame (I graduated to a boot!), it’s been ok.
Rob’s tired of waiting on me. I’ve got cabin fever like never before and we’re ready for this to be over. I couldn’t have done it without him though.
In sickness and in health.