The Day of Reckoning - Surgery - Bilateral 4 Compartment Facsiotomy

I found it fascinating. In the weeks leading up to the surgery, I would always get asked the question, "are you nervous?". And I would reply truthfully, that I wasn't. But driving to the hospital at 2 in the afternoon on the day of surgery, it hit me. This literally would affect my entire life going onward. Either it would work, and I would be able to resume athletic activities, or it would fail, and I would be forced to significantly alter my lifestyle, as I had done for the past year. I guess relatively speaking, it wasn't nearly as big as some actual life-threatening surgeries people face every day, but still, this was important to me - and I was rattled. This was something that I absolutely could not control; I was at the mercy of my surgeon's abilities.

It was also eerie checking in alone - While that is probably normal for most adults having surgery, the last time I had any kind of procedure done with anesthesia was in 10th grade when I got my nose shattered by an elbow while playing basketball. Back then, my parents accompanied me. This time, however, I was alone. It kind of hammered in the point that this surgery was about me, and if it did fail, no amount of comfort in the world would allow me to be the same.

Alright, now on to the details that you all actually care about. My surgery was scheduled for 330, and I was told to arrive at 2. I got there, and switched into the always-oversized and forever-comical looking gown. Doctors came around periodically and almost all of them asked me the same questions about what I had eaten in the last 24 hours (I was not supposed to eat after midnight, and not supposed to drink water 2 hours before surgery). I could not tell if this was a case of unfortunate bureaucracy or if it is protocol in order to really make sure the patient isn't forgetting the entire pizza they ate an hour before surgery, I'm not sure.

I asked to see the surgeon before, as I wanted to ask some last second questions in order to have some peace of mind before they put me down. I had 2 questions - 1. I reiterated the fact that my lateral compartment was negative bilaterally in the compartment syndrome test, and wanted to make sure that, with that knowledge, he still wanted to release it, and 2. If something does go wrong, what are some of the effects I might experience (I know, stupid to be asking 15 minutes before surgery, but I'm a glutton for punishment). For question 1, he repeated the same answer he gave before, that it would not compromise recovery if the lateral compartment was released, and would benefit me in that it would reduce my chances of symptoms returning post-surgery, which would obviously suck.

For 2, he told me that failures usually entail the returning of symptoms, and in 1 case of an older women, there was some permanent numbness in the leg. Armed with these somewhat reassuring answers, I was prepared to go under. The anesthesiologist gave me an IV, started pumping the good stuff, and away we went.

Surprisingly, I woke up quite comfortably. I could feel my legs were bandaged, and there definitely was a feeling that something happened down there, but pain was kept to a minimum. My mom also appeared, as she was going to drive me home. Apparently, the surgeon said that both lateral compartments appeared quite tight, so it's good that he released them despite them coming up negative on the compartmental test! After some saltines and a bunch of water, I hobbled up with the help of a nurse, and got into the wheelchair. Then I had my first real test when I had to get out of the wheelchair and into the car. It's hard to describe the feeling, but it was somewhat similar to my calves being locked, and if I tried to use them, some serious pain would result. So I somehow managed to get in the car, and then, using crutches, made it from the car to a bed I had set up on the first floor. At this point, walking consisted of shuffling my feet using the four-point crutch gait. Any flight of stairs that had more than 3-4 steps would have been immensely uncomfortable at that point. I had a bunch of pillows piled up at the end of the aero bed I was sleeping on so my legs would be seriously elevated. I also was given these nifty ice packs connected to coolers, so I could essentially pump cold water into the packs as needed. I basically got into bed, popped 2 5 mg pills of oxycodone, and drifted in and out of sleep for the next 12 hours. Pain was definitely there, but very mild. I did need to go piss a couple times during the night., though, and the most difficult part was standing up, as that required putting more force on my legs than they allowed, but I mainly just shuffled my way back and forth using crutches.

More updates to follow!