On Monday, we took the boys to school and I nervously headed into surgery. Jeremy helped me into my gown, but was not allowed to stay with me any longer.
Note: Luxembourg is a very wealthy country and known for some of the best PUBLIC healthcare in Europe. Well, in comparison to my experience in American private healthcare, I was less than impressed. It's scary to think it is like the future of American Public healthcare. In fact, our pediatrician in The Woodlands, came to a conference with the EU in Luxembourg to learn best practices of their public healthcare systems. His conference was in Kirchberg--exactly where I was!
I headed to anesthesiology to have my leg numbed. That was an experience I never want to relive. Imagine a soldier getting a slug dug out of the back of his knee with no drugs in a bloody war scene. It was only slightly better than that. Seriously, there was no explanation about the procedure, what to expect or what to do if it's getting too painful. But don't worry, if you start crying and telling them it hurts and you can hear your blood pressure monitor alarming, they won't ask for consent, they will just give you 'something to relax'.
After the torture was over and my leg was numb, I was taken to the OR. The surgery seemed to last forever... I've had 2 c-sections. It wasn't all that different, except that it's a foot instead of a belly. But after a baby is born there is so much excitement and distraction to pass the time while they stitch you back together. So, it just seemed long. Off to recovery!
Here's where the American medical system can really save some money! Shove all the post-op patients in to one big ward and mostly ignore them. Nevermind recovery rooms (shared or private), offering water or food to the patients who just fasted for 24 hours. Only pain meds for the people who moan the loudest. Doctors and anesthesiologist are off the hook too. No need to make sure your patient is recovering ok before leaving the hospital-- that's just an unnecessary medical cost!
Most of the patients in the ward were dozing on and off from their anesthesia. Unfortunately, I got to experience it fully sober. Jeremy wasn't allowed in to see me nor was I to be released until feeling came back to my feet. I was told the anesthesia could last 6-8 hours. I was only 3 hours in when I arrived. After about an hour and a half, a nurse say me crying and asked if I needed something--YES! Is water too much to ask? She brought me a dixie cup! I downed it and quickly asked for another. Food? I got a vending machine style Madeline cookie. Imagine a Twinkie without the filling. Yep, that was my nourishing post-op snack.
Now it had been an hour and a half since I entered the recovery ward. I could hear Jeremy asking to see me at the nurses window. Nope. So I asked if I could get my cast and leave. Well, no prescription for a cast and still can't wiggle my toes. This time I insisted on WHY? She explained that I need to feel my foot to get out of the bed and walk on crutches--it's a far walk to the car. REALLY? No cast and I have to walk a cross the hospital grounds to the parking garage--no wheelchair? I somewhat politely informed the nurse that there was no sense in waiting for feeling because I would NOT be walking out on crutches! But there was no prescription for a wheelchair?? I assured her that my husband would find a wheelchair!
Either I was that convincing or they really needed my space in recovery (pretty sure it was the latter), so they wheeled me to the dressing room to meet Jeremy. They yanked (yes, it was that unpleasant) my IV out, cut my hospital bracelet and gave me my clothes. Done! So, I started asking really stupid questions like, now what do I do? Elevate, how often do I ice? Is there any medication? Don't worry, you will see your doctor tomorrow is all I was told. Oh and if it's painful, you can take the standard 1g dosage of Tylenol.
Now back at home, my lower leg was still numb, but where they dug the bullet out and my whole upper leg was in a lot of pain. Too bad I cleaned out my medicine cabinet and threw away all the extra Vicodin from previous surgeries. Tylenol didn't cut it. At 11pm-- 14 hours after the 6-8 hour anesthesia was given to me, I still could not feel my foot or move my toes. Just happy that I wasn't still in that terrible ward, I went to bed. I awoke at 3am with throbbing pain in my foot--YAY, I can feel my foot! boooo Tylenol! Thanks to my family praying for me, I was able to get back to sleep for the night.
Jeremy had to do everything for 3 days following surgery. I was useless. He was great and he got a little glimpse of the demands of a mom every morning before school. I planned meals and grocery lists. He shopped and cooked. Then once I started moving more, I could cook with a chair in the kitchen so he didn't have to do it all.
My friends were great too. Flowers, magazines, chocolate and pastries were some of the gifts they brought on their visits. I wouldn't have survived the last 5 weeks without all the friends who came to have coffee with me! I only had 2 days that I was alone.