Sad. But, true.
I have always been the patient. My mom or Beau have been my caregivers. They always do an excellent job. However, I don’t mean to brag, but I’m a REALLY good patient and recover pretty quickly. Yes, I have the typical side effects and barf my guts up every time. But, as a whole, the next day, I feel pretty good. Plus … I totally don’t hate being waited on. That should happen more often.
I’ve had a total of 5 surgeries. I have had a little experience in this area.
However, Beau had had absolutely no surgeries until yesterday. It was his first surgery in 44 years. Wow.
He had knee surgery to repair his torn meniscus. The good news is that it’s repaired. The bad news is he had way more damage than the doctor expected, including a hole in part of the bone on the inside of his knee and pretty much no cartilage left in those same areas.
Beau was very slow to wake up and we ended up spending 4 hours just in recovery, which included a major drop in blood pressure and a shot of ephedrine. He suffered quite a bit with all the side effects and struggled all day and night yesterday. Praying today will be better.
I’m sure he didn’t appreciate my comments throughout our time in recovery, like, “You do know 4 people have come and gone in the room next to us since we’ve been in here?” or “Toddlers and babies are skipping out of here after their surgery,” or “I think the nurse would like to get off her shift.” I held my tongue as we were leaving and all the nurses stood around watching because I honestly thought they were going to break into applause.
Poor baby.
He was hurtin’ bad.
Now, that we’re home I’m pretty much like Florence Nightingale … helping him to get to the bathroom, bringing him crackers and water, propping his leg up, putting ice packs on his knee, fluffing his pillows, and continuously asking, “Do you need anything?”
I’ll be playing nurse the rest of the week and through the weekend.
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