On it being two weeks since the operaton

Well, it is now two weeks since the operation and I’m still at the General. I’ve been waiting on lab results, allergy tests, antibiotics and pick line installation. The lab results finally showed that I have an infection to some bug or other. The allergy tests demonstrated that I was allergic to the first antibiotic they were giving me so they are now giving me another one by IV which takes longer to administer, three times a day, which means at least one is administered at some ungodly hour resulting in disturbed sleep patterns. Despite a pick line (a semi permanent IV line) being put in, someone said that it might delay my return to the Lindsay as they might not be able to administer it there. 

That would be ghastly as the antibiotic regime is supposed to last about six weeks, medical time which is annoyingly elastic. While I am getting some physio here, the sessions are brief to the point that I feel I am losing ground. Among other things, I haven’t been cleared to use my crutches again.

Alice is coming in next week. There has been some discussion as to whether she might be able to administer the antibiotic which would allow us to go out to North Hatley for a day or two to celebrate Mummy’s 80th birthday. There seems to be the notion that as a medical professional she might be allowed once given the proper instruction. However, there is a distinct amount of medical dithering, ass-covering and poor communication around the General. 

Not to mention poor cooperation between professionals. An example of this occurred the day after the operation when one of the ortho team came to adjust the screws on my Taylor spatial frame. It was the second such adjustment of the day. He had to remove a cloth bandage around the frame to make the adjustments. However, when it came time to put the cloth bandage back, he seemed to be all thumbs and this was stressing me out. Also, my leg was getting tired from holding itself in the air for his ease. Eventually, I got fed up to the point that I asked him to please get someone who really knew how to apply a bandage to help him. To his credit, he did so readily that I think he had wanted help but was too proud to admit it.

The bandages are now gone and I have too good a view of my lower left leg. Too good as it is very hard to resist picking at it. I have devised a way to cover part of it with my side snap trousers. Out of sight, out of mind.

I am finding easier to cope being here at the General than during my first visit. One very important factor is that I can hop in my wheelchair and see the sights as well as do things like go for coffee or peruse the books at the Deja lu Book Nook. While doing so one time, I asked if I might take a look through the Lonely Planet guide to Bolivia. I was disappointed that La Cancha wasn’t mentioned in the entries for Cochabamba. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t jump at the chance at going back to the Lindsays.

On ye olde teknowlowgee

The end of the nerve block test went very well, so its IV thingy was removed early yesterday afternoon by Nick, the good humoured nurse from the day before. The procedure was just about pain-free which was all to the good. It was a considerable relief to be free of the IV stand as I could now transfer myself to the wheelchair and thus attend various needs myself. 

One of these was filling my water bottle with ice and water from the machine near the elevators. My room is at the far Western end of the corridor, so it made for a nice roll. Coming back, I noticed several examples of ye olde teknowlowgee (old technology). The first was a pneumatic tube system complete with a olde instructional poster and a list of the locations of the various departments in the building from 1984 which had been typed then photocopied. I also noticed two phone booths built into the wall. The seats were still there but Bell has removed the phones, if not an ad. I mentioned the pneumatic tube system to Nick. He hadn’t know it was there and went with me to take a look. In turn, he mentioned its existence to another employee who had used them at another hospital.

This morning I had the usual round of minor treatments. This included a visit from Nicolai, a member of the Ortho team. I asked him how long I was going to remain at the General. He said they were waiting for the all-clear to be deduced from the cultures of the tissue samples they had taken during the operation. He said it usually took five days before they knew. I replied, “So I will know yesterday?”

Later in the morning, I put a note on my door saying I was going for a roll in the wheelchair along with my mobile number in case they needed me of a sudden. I set off in search of the widely rumoured but never seen cafeteria which the lore suggested might be found on the 4th floor. I celebrated finding it by buying a slice of pizza and a pint of milk. The food I get served here isn’t bad, though it is a bit bland. It also seems to be not quite as filling as it might.

Stephen, Margaret and Avery came by in the afternoon with leftover chocolate cake from Pappy’s birthday and some rice pudding curtesy of Joey. I made a point of showing them the pneumatic tube.

After supper, I got a phone call from Vélo-Québec. The lady wanted to know if I would like to be volunteer again for the Tour-de-l’Île. I responded that I would like to, but that I was incapable of doing so as I had a broken leg. Maybe next year.

On the Eclipse

There were three unsuccessful attempts to put a new IV in me yesterday. All of them painful in a “this-would-be-less-painful-if-it-worked” sort of way. The successful attempt was at about 10 PM just as I had been about to settle in for the night. It was immediately followed by a dose of IV antibiotics which I knew from previous experience would take about an hour to be injected at which time the device would start beeping. So I watched an episode of Archer then one of Connections. Sure enough, the machine started beeping at about the time I’d expected. What I didn’t expect was that it would take at least forty or sixty minutes for a nurse to be available to press the right buttons and unplug me from the IV. That is forty to sixty minutes of the wretched machine going beep-bleep every fifteen seconds.

This is relevant as it factors into more joyful events. I awoke, had breakfast and physio, then got dressed for the first time since the operation. A phone call to Saint-Michael the Holy Mole managed to convince him to come up the hill to escort me out to watch the Eclipse. He had been going to watch it with a much more mobile cousin. I also had a nice chat with my hospital GP doctor in which I expressed how upset I had been without my antidepressants.

After lunch, I used the facilities for the first time since the operation (FTFTSTO). I also put in my contact lenses (also FTFTSTO). Shortly before Michael arrived, a male nurse came by with large syringes that I recognized as being antibiotic related. We discussed the timing of events as it was getting close to H-Hour for the Eclipse. He assured me that it would be done in time for the Eclipse, which he also wanted to see. As Michael came in, I jokingly swore that I would hold the nurse to that promise or else I would get Michael to kill him.

True to his word, the antibiotics were in at an appropriate time. The nurse prompted disconnected me from the IV and hung the nerve block drip from one of the handles of my wheelchair for easy wheeling.

(I fear I must digress about the nerve block drip. Since the operation, there is has been a drip going into my left leg to numb the nerves from the pain caused by what the doctors did to repair the damage driver did. It is quieter than the IV drip for antibiotics. More on it later.)

Michael and I headed down in the elevator to the 6th floor, a.k.a. the Cedar Avenue entrance. Two older men got on and asked if the sixth floor was the one they wanted. Noticing that one of them had a pair of Eclipse glasses in his hand, I said: “Yes, assuming that you both are going to that,” indicating the glasses. There was small crowd outside. I parked the wheelchair upwind of some smokers and put on the glasses. The Sun was already about halfway covered, though you would barely know it from the apparent sunlight. We sat, chatted and watched as the light grew dimmer and it felt colder. Totality was reached as the crowd cheered and the World became a spookier place for a couple of minutes, before the Sun returned.* 

Street lights have come on

Saint-Michael the Holy Mole flabbergasted by the Eclipse

We watched for a few minutes more then went back it. As we approached the atrium, I noticed an older woman on a mobility scooter coming from inside the hospital. Something about her body language indicated that she hadn’t known about the Eclipse. In the atrium, my suspicions were confirmed, so I offered her my Eclipse glasses so she might see the remainder of the event. (The Sun was still about three-quarters covered.) 

Thank you, Saint-Michael the Holy Mole.

As people are interested in my medical condition, I will fill you in on some more news. The doctors were worried about the bone being infected, so when they extracted the original external fixations and some other bits, they took tissue and blood samples to see if there were any nasty bugs in them. So far, the cultures have come back negative which is good news, suggesting they might stop with the antibiotics. As well, tomorrow they will try taking me off the nerve blocker at 6 AM. The male nurse said that if all was well at 12, then they would take out the line. Any doctors, nurses or orderlies (current or future) should pay attention to this next bit. I called him back for clarification. Did he mean 12 noon or 12 midnight? I thought the timing sufficiently important that I illustrated my confirmation by saying: “So if I haven’t killed someone because of the pain by noon, you will remove the nerve block line?” He was a good sport about my exaggeration of the violence my pain might cause, even before I apologized.

*Mummy has claimed that it was because they had sacrificed a goat. I’ll take a photograph or homemade goat curry as proof. **

** Addendum: It turns out Mummy was lying about having sacrificed a goat.

On the consequences of the operation

I would like to apologize to my readers for the lack of posts, but things have gone unfortunately. For reasons I am unable to easily write about, the operation I had longed for was not the one I had. Rather than something final, it came down to removing the external fixations and replacing them with a Taylor spatial frame which seems more cumbersome.

I have been told by several independent sources that the doctor I had is absolutely top notch. He has a signature of drawing smiley faces on his patients. The nursing staff on the whole seem better than on the floor I was on.

However, I think they should have handled my meds better. I was kept off my antidepressants for two days. Together with post-operative pain, I’ve cried a lot for next to no reason. It was well after midnight when I finally fell asleep last night. Unfortunately, my slumber was dominated by a recurrent nightmare. I finally got my antidepressant this morning by begging a nurse with tears in my eyes. I have been through a lot of physical and psychological pain, in the last couple of days, and even before the operation, an anesthetist commented I had PTSD.

On getting the news

I am grateful for the way that Easter fell this year. Otherwise, I might have got the call on April 1st and then been struck by the worry that it was an April Fool’s joke. Instead, I got the call on April 2nd, seven months after being hit.

I had gone down to the gym this morning to meet with the Occupation Therapist. She de-briefed me on the weekend in North Hatley, then we discussed details of my planned experimental stay at home due to start in the afternoon.

I went back up to my room to deal with something minor, when my phone rang with the Montreal General’s phone number. I answered it. The person began by asking where I was, then asked if I could come in for X-rays tomorrow? I said yes, then asked if this meant the date of the operation had been set and if so for when? The answers were yes and Thursday. The joy in my voice alerted my roommate that something was up. After I hung up, I headed towards the nurses station to relay the news. My roommate inquired as to what the good news was and was the first to know. My nurse was next. I then phoned my neighbour Jacques who had been going to help me get into my condo today, followed by The Mole who had been going to spend the night. Mummy was next to know, then Facebook, then this Blog.

I had a physio session at 10, but went down early to her and the Occupational Therapist know the news. I found the gym orderly first and let her know, then later found the OT and the Physio. The latter did a little dance to celebrate!

I had been wondering what my reaction would be to getting the call. It turned out to be joyful relief. (I am so utterly fed up with the external fixations.) It was tempered a bit by second phone call from the General asking where I was. Apparently, they hadn’t got the message that I had moved from the Champlain to the Lindsay.

Stephen later phoned as he and his gang had been due to visit me at home tomorrow, but given the circumstances, the home stay is put off until further notice. A bit disappointing that. Another disappointment is that I will likely be unable to go to North Hatley for the Eclipse.

On returning to North Hatley

I better start writing quickly as after a long spell of nothingness, suddenly things seem to be coming in a rush.

On Saturday, Mummy picked me up at the Lindsay. She then drove me to North Hatley. Our first stop in town was at the Store where the owner held the door open for me. I congratulated Elliott on the birth of his third son, and generally stood at the front greeting various customers. 

Pappy wasn’t at home when we arrived. I was sitting in my wheelchair when he came in. We hugged and cried on each other’s shoulder.

There was a certain amount of adjusting furniture and carpet removal in the Guestroom and the downstairs toilet. I left the wheelchair in the guestroom and got around the house on crutches. This was a good thing as it stimulated me to use the crutches.

A little before supper, Dominique came by with Maki the dachshund. He wasn’t too sure about me, which was a bit disappointing but vaguely expected.

The next day, we were invited to lunch at Jean-Philippe F.’s house. I was expecting his immediate family and Jean-Paul his father. Instead, there were two of his brothers and their significant others and his sister, her husband and kids. Along with Jean-Philippe’s wife and kids it was a full house and somewhat of a surprise. Christian, the oldest brother is about my age and we go back to primary school. We used to be best friends but about twenty years ago we drifted apart. We chatted a lot, particularly after one point, I found the noise too much and went outside for some quiet where he joined me. I neglected to mention to him that the Lindsay is within sight of the apartment building where he lived while he was studying at La Polytechnique.

Back in North Hatley, I prepped my spinach dish before taking a doze. Philip and company came down for Easter supper of lamb and maple mousse.

On Monday, Mummy drove me back to the Lindsay. A little past Mount Orford, I spotted a wild turkey flying over the autoroute. I don’t think I had seen a wild turkey in flight before. 

It was very good to see the village again is unfortunately the best way I can put it. My words fail me.

On the date being set

 I finally got the Phone Call. The operation will be on Thursday!!!!!