I would put a “read more” on this, but my toolbar has disappeared so I can’t figure out how to do that anymore, so feel free to ignore this.
So I had another terrible day yesterday. Early in the morning, my kneecap dislocated. It was easily the most painful dislocation I’ve had so far, which is especially terrible, as normally kneecap ones are the easiest to deal with. But because my knee is healing from the surgery, it was just awful. It also took me several minutes to get it back in place, and normally it only takes like a few seconds (aside from that really bad injury back in October, when it was out of place for like an hour. But that’s also why I had the surgery… and even that wasn’t as painful as this one.) But it’s just awful, because the whole point of the surgery was that it was supposed to stop the dislocations. So I guess it wasn’t too successful… And then after that my knee has been super swollen, even more so than it has been. So my mom came home for a few minutes from work to help me out, and we decided to try and put my post surgery brace back on because that might stabilize the knee a bit and stop it from happening again. But we couldn’t get it on, because my entire leg is swollen to over twice its size. It literally wouldn’t fit on at all.
We thought about going to the ER because my knee looks like it might be infected, and to make sure nothing terrible happened after the dislocation. But the ER is so, so bad here about handling my EDS… No one there knows what it is. (Except for one doctor once who was awesome and diagnosed some weird stuff as soon as he found out I had it. Turns out it was just his favorite rare condition to study in his free time as a hobby lol.) Plus I found out that I’m not allowed to get pain meds from the ER anymore, because I signed a “pain contract” with the hospital so I can get meds for chronic pain from my doctor, and she thinks it’s incredibly stupid, but the hospital takes it seriously. So if I get meds from any other source besides my regular doctor (aside from the surgeon because I had that pre approved), it terminates my contract, and I’m no longer allowed to ever receive any pain pills from any doctor in town.
But yeah, my knee is gross, my entire leg including the foot is twice it’s size, it’s bright red, it’s extremely hot to the touch to the point where it feels like my leg is on fire, and there’s really nothing I can do about it.
Oh, and TMI, but I have to poop, which is awesome because narcotic constipation has been killing me for the past week, but I also really really really don’t want to have to get up and walk to the bathroom to do it. ARRRRRGGGGGGG I JUST WANT TO BE ALLOWED TO POOP WHERE I AM BUT THAT’S DISGUSTING SO I CAN’T.
Holy shit, I just got a phone call from my regular doctor and now I know why I’ve been vomiting so much. I’m allergic to morphine (not opiates, just morphine, and it’s in my file, I even had to wear a special bracelet while at the hospital), and my surgeon has been having me take Dilaudid for the past week. My doctor just told me I should’ve never been given it, because Dilaudid has morphine in it. What the fuck, how did my surgeon not know this?!?! No wonder I’ve been so, so sick for the past week. I was wondering why I couldn’t stop vomiting, sleeping, and generally feeling like shit. Doctors need to get their shit together, what if it had been worse? What if I’d had a serious allergic reaction beyond what I did? This kind of shit makes me so nervous.
So I had a fairly big surgery a week ago, and then I hit rock bottom today.
Last Thursday I had my knee finally fixed. I’ve been having chronic kneecap dislocations for over 6 years, and it got to the point where my knee was completely fucked and unstable. So they went for a 3 hour surgery where they transplanted a cadaver tendon into my knee and screwed it in in two different places in my kneecap and one place in my femur, they loosened another ligament, they fixed all of the fucked up cartilage, the took some cartilage out, and they had to slowly put my kneecap back in place because apparently it’s been dislocated for at least 6 months, if not a few years.
It’s basically been the most painful thing ever. And they were shit about pain management. Especially at the hospital. They woke me up after surgery, made me sit for 30 minutes, and then gave me a 2 mg dilaudud, and went “that’ll kick in in about an hour!” I was literally sobbing the whole time. Then finally they gave me something via IV, and it turned out to be IV Ibuprofen. What the shit. And at one point I had this conversation with the nurse:
Her: “So where’s your pain on a scale of 1 to 10?”
Me: “10, easily.”
Her: “Ok, let me explain this to you - 1 is no pain, and 10 is having your arm cut off with a chainsaw. So where are you really?”
Me: “Well I’ve never had my arm cut off with a chainsaw, so I can’t say what that feels like, and this is the worst pain I’ve ever had in my life, so I’d say it’s a fucking 10. Also, that’s not how that scale works, you’re a nurse, you should know that.”
Then the other, really nice nurse started laughing really hard.
Then they gave me some more dilaudid to take home, but the problem is that I have somewhat of a fairly high opiate tolerance, and they didn’t take that into account at all. So I was in agony all weekend, and then I went back for wound care on Monday. The surgeon was like
"I did a perfect job, so you shouldn’t need any more pain meds, so I’m going to give you 30 of the percocet you’ve been taking pre surgery for chronic pain and you won’t get any more after that. Also, why what kind of chronic pain were you even in?"
"Um, I have severe Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, so I was taking it for the injury that caused me to have to have surgery, and that’s the illness that caused me to have the injury that caused the surgery and… you know all of this."
And I’m also really confused, because he told me that I could start physical therapy a month after my surgery, and now he’s telling me he wants me to go in on Monday. And I just… I don’t understand. Surgeons are always so nice pre surgery, and then afterwards they turn into complete assholes.
And I can’t move like at all. And I’m supposed to get up to use the bathroom, but I totally can’t. So I’ve been peeing into tupperware while sitting in the chair, because that’s how gross I am. I’m always surrounded by tupperware with lids on it filled with pee.
But today was the worst. I was just sitting here the morning, and suddenly I vomited everywhere. And I couldn’t move to clean myself up at all. So I had to call my mom at work, and be like “I just vomited all over myself please come home.” Fortunately she did, and when she walked in she was like “oh my god, this is the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I think this must be how babies feel all the time.
I had 2 annoying encounters with people today.
First - I was smoking a cigarette outside of the UC on campus, and it’s technically a “smoke free campus”, but usually no one gives a shit, because you know, it’s fucking outside. But this old couple walked by, and very aggressively the old man was like “DID YOU KNOW THIS IS A SMOKE FREE CAMPUS?! THIS CAMPUS IS SMOKE FREE!!! YOU CAN’T SMOKE HERE!!!!” And he kept going on and on and his wife was just nodding along vigorously. The whole time I just stared at them with this incredibly wide eyed, confused looked, and slowly and intensely shook my head back and forth and never said anything. Eventually he just got really confused by my reaction and kind of slowly walked away mumbling to himself.
Second - I went out with some people from Lambda to the Iron Horse after the meeting tonight, and for the most part it was awesome to get to know the new board and our new president bought me quesadillas, cheese fries, and a fancy shot. But then when the waitress was clearing the table, she dropped the plate the quesadillas were on and the bowl of guacamole fell in my purse. She just looked at me and and very snarkily went “At least it wasn’t the salsa”, threw a stack of napkins on the table, and walked away. So I had to spend the next 10 minutes scooping guacamole out of my purse, and my friend next to me had to go home because the salsa was all over her coat, in the pockets, and inside of her wallet. Like, I get that there wasn’t much the waitress could do, but she probably could have at least fucking apologized or something. I mean shit, my purse is going to smell like avocados for who knows how long since it’s not exactly washable, and my book is stained green. I mean come on.
My cat Patty died today. I knew it was going to happen sometime soon, but I didn’t know it’d happen so fast. She was 19 though, and she wasn’t actually sick (she actually never got sick once), I think she just finally wore out. I thought I’d be prepared when it happened, but just finding her in her litter box sent me over the edge and I basically had a minor breakdown and sobbed for a few hours. I’d finally stop crying, and then randomly 15 minutes later it would start again.
And then right after my mom decided to go to bed, she came out and told me to come sit in her room with her for a while. Apparently she’s decided that we need to get a puppy. We still have one dog, and our other dog died back in June, and she’d been pretty adamant then that we weren’t getting another dog, so I just never really thought about it. But she said she’s been thinking it over for a while, and she decided that now’s the time. And I agree with all of her reasons. Basically she thinks it’ll be too quiet around the house with just our one dog now that Patty is gone too. Also I’ve been dealing with really bad depression for a few months (well, longer than that, but it’s only been really bad for the past few months), and she said that I need something to take my mind off of things and to care for. Because I can’t just lay in bed all day if I have a puppy, I have to actually be responsible. And plus my girlfriend is going to Europe for a couple of months soon, and I’m having really intense knee surgery around the same time, and my mom thinks that having a puppy around will distract me from everything and keep me from getting too lonely. And that maybe I’ll be better about actually doing physical therapy and working on getting my knee better if I have the reward of playing with the dog. And it doesn’t hurt that I’m home pretty much 24/7, so it won’t exactly be hard for me to be on top of training it. Also we’re hoping that a puppy will be good for our other dog, who is basically still a 9 year old puppy and incredibly hyperactive, and she’s been super lonely since our other dog died, and with the cat gone… She just needs another friend.
We’re going to go look this Saturday, because we want to get one as soon as possible. We’re going to get as small of a dog as possible though, since you never know when I’m going to move and where I’m going to move to in the next few years, so I want something that can possibly live in an apartment without a yard if need be. Which unfortunately means no hounds (which I feel are the best dogs), but I’ll live. And my mom wants a dog that she can bring traveling with her on road trips.
Today has been such a shitty day, but it’s really had a turn around. And there’s no way that this dog will be a replacement for either of the pets I’ve lost recently, but it’s definitely going to help.
I really hope I can drag my mom to the movies this Saturday, because I am just way too excited to see August: Osage County. I saw the play years ago and loved it, and I know my mom would too. Mostly because it parallels our family way too much, right down to all of us being spread out over the country and having to return to rural Oklahoma for the funeral of the family patriarch, which of course turned into a massive shitstorm. Our family does have less incest, though. (as far as I know of… and I don’t want to know differently.)
I’m listening to “Die Young” by Kesha because it’s stuck in my head, and it’s just giving me so much nostalgia for last year when my friend Ellen and I spent every Thursday night for like 3 months downtown at Dead Hipster. This song always seemed to play like 30 times, and every time we’d work our way to the front of the dance floor and scream it ridiculously loud. (Of course we were also always about one step away from being blackout drunk.) But that was only when we weren’t hanging out in the bathroom peeing 55 times and/or hoping someone would come in to do coke and offer us some. (It happened once, and we kept expecting it to happen again. It didn’t.)
Anyway, I’m just really excited that she’s back in town because she’s been living Chile for the last year, so that’s what prompted this.
I should start keeping a list of all of the really attractive things I say to my girlfriend in the middle of sex, like
"Oh god, I think I ate too much quiche earlier."
"I’m sorry for laughing so much, I just keep thinking about John Wilkes Booth."
I’m about to watch Blazing Saddles with my girlfriend, and it’s making me think about the numerous times that me and my group of friends have gotten into screaming matches with each other over whether Mel Brooks is funny or not. We all just have really passionate opinions on the matter.
But we’re also usually high when this happens, so they’re probably never as intense as I remember.