As I sit here, hunched over the keyboard of my computer (the only way I can type without screaming with pain), I know somehow, some way, some day, I'll use the agony of surgery, working with only one hand/arm, and working toward recovery in my writing. I hope I can benefit in more than one way (i.e. regaining the use of my left arm without constant pain and having the shoulder catch). Aren't we, as writers, supposed to use experiences to improve our writing?
Scheduled for Friday, November 16, surgery on my left shoulder should have been outpatient -- go in, go home. However, when I finally awoke, something was wrong. Oh, I didn't feel my arm. A nerve block made it completely numb, dead weight clear to my fingers. No, I couldn't breathe. My chest had a weight pushing on it. I felt as if I had hiccups in my chest from time to time. I ended up in the hospital because the doctors feared I had "thrown" a blood clot.
Then the real "suffering" began. I had had nothing to eat or drink and none of my medicines since ten o'clock Thursday night. My glucose levels shot sky high, and the hospital staff wouldn't give me my insulin. I thought I would never be given any of my needed prescriptions, even though all the information was in their computers (my doctor is in the same network). What a nightmare. My dear, wonderful daughter by marriage, Janelle, stayed with me until after 12:30 AM Saturday, not leaving until she knew I was finally getting the care I should.
Saturday, after still not receiving my medicines as needed, the surgeon's PA said my cardiologist would dismiss me when he or whomever was on call made rounds. By four o'clock, nothing. I called the answering service, received a call from the doctor on call, no one knew anything about me. After I explained what I knew, they dismissed me by phone. Janelle helped me break out, while Jacque Graham kept an eye out for anyone trying to stop the escape.
Now, I await the slow grinding gears of medical care to set up home health care. Wonder if I'll be using my arm on my own (after figuring out how to do range of motion exercises) before anyone follows through? Oh, my, more information to use in writing some day.
Thankfully, the pain isn't as bad as I expected. Oh, it's not any fun and is mighty uncomfortable, but I'm managing. Robert is doing the best he can to be my personal nurse. We will endure. One thing both of us have learned: we do the best we can with what we have.
God has been good.