Surgery and Other Stuff

It's been two weeks since my surgery, and there's a lot to say! I'm relegated to typing with one hand exclusively. I'm not to use my left arm at all. This has made life way more interesting.

The morning of my surgery I finally managed to squeeze in the time to try boot shells on Hoss's hind feet. Talk about waiting until the last minute! I took my trimming tools and the three shells into the pasture. I didn't bother to put a halter on Hoss. He was eating his breakfast and has shown me he will pretty much cooperate with me. So I picked up his right hind (his left has wall damage from Eastern High Sierra; I figured it wouldn't give me a good sense of fit and I didn't want to mess with it) and got it cleaned up. Once I had it trimmed, I tried the 0.5 size shell. No go. I was quite surprised. Since the size 1 clearly doesn't fit, I really expected he'd need a 0, but decided to try the 0.5 first. Well, I spent some time looking at what I had, and determined that the widest part of Hoss's hind feet is too far back. The Gloves will not work for his hind feet.

Since that rather disappointing moment, I have been researching EasyCare's other boots. I haven't been able to spend much time in front of the computer, so it's taken longer to accomplish this than it should have. I've decided I'll probably go with the Edge. It's the next generation improvement on the Bare, which I like, but don't like so much I'd be inclined to jump on it. The Edge works best on feet that are longer than wide, a trait I like for hind feet. Hoss, like most horses, has hind feet that are slightly longer than they are wide. Since I can't trim his feet right now, it will be some time before I can make the purchase. It's a little frustrating, but I'll have to live with it.

I'm finding I'm far more dedicated to this barefoot thing than I expected. Originally, I said if the Gloves don't work, I'll just put him back in shoes. Instead I find myself researching alternatives!

Okay, on to the surgery. I got all my tasks done, showered, got in to as little clothing as I could get wear and still be decent, and off to La Jolla. The surgery center is more than an hour's drive from home. Add that we had to head out toward the tail end of rush hour, and it takes yet longer. We arrived just at 8:45, my reporting time. I bailed out of my friend's car and headed in.

The woman at the desk asked me what I was there for. A little baffled by the question, I told her surgery and gave her my name. She then informed me they had expected me at 6:45! Uh, no, really no. I was told to show up an hour and forty five minutes before my surgery time. I was on time. Turns out they'd called me – the previous day, no less! – to change the time. They called the house. I almost never bother to check the home answering machine. I had also very carefully made sure my doctor's office had my cell number as the primary number, since I'm almost never in the house, anyway. And I'd been working until dark that day, so even if I had received the message, it would have been too late me for me to call back and laugh at them. It would have been the next best thing to impossible for me to get there that early.

Fortunately, my doctor was still there, and the surgery was done. I would have been really ticked if it hadn't been done. My feeling was, I'd agreed on the time for the surgery, and it was very inconsiderate of them to think they could arbitrarily change the time without confirming it with me.

When I awoke from surgery, the most important thing on my mind was, of course, what had he done? I must sadly report that he had to do a rather major repair of my rotator cuff and resect the end of my collarbone. Having already discussed what this would mean, I knew I was looking at being in a sling for 4-6 weeks. Not at all what I was hoping for.

On our way home, we stopped at the pharmacy to pick up my meds. The doctor prescribed Norco. I've taken it before, but it makes me sick. The last time it was prescribed, it was a lower dose of narcotic, but the same amount of acetaminophen. It didn't make me intolerably sick. Well, this Norco made me absolutely dog sick. So I called and asked to get Vicodin, which I can tolerate. I was told the doctor "absolutely will not prescribe Vicodin." I was advised to take half instead. Well, that didn't work. I called back, but made no headway.

I was, understandably, really mad! I couldn't take the Norco, and my doctor was being completely inflexible. Suffice to say, I had to find other avenues to deal with the situation.

I had this truly monstrous bandage on my shoulder, and it itched! I assumed it was strictly because of the adhesive in the foam tape they used. It's not unusual for adhesives – if they stick to me at all – to irritate my skin. Overnight, it gradually got worse. I found myself weaseling a finger under the tape to rub gently at my skin. I still figured it was the adhesive.

In the morning, my friend helped me remove the bandaging. Immediately upon pulling it back, we were both struck by a very strong odor of iodine. This is bad. I'm allergic to iodine! It gives me chemical burns. We scrambled about and found rubbing alcohol to neutralize it. My friend got me cleaned up and covered the incisions with band-aids.

The surgical center called to follow up. I said everything was fine, except why the heck had somebody put iodine on me? They denied using anything containing iodine on me. They said they used Chloraprep, which has "an odor" to it. They suggested I was sensitive to it, too. I never did get an answer to my question of whether the stuff smells just like iodine….

There being no instruction for when I should see my doctor for follow-up, I assumed the doctor's office would call me. In the mean time, my sutures started to get infected. In honesty, it looked to me like I could have safely removed them after five days, and it was now eight. I coached my friend through removing the stitches. It was a Saturday, and I figured we could either do it ourselves, or spend a whole day in an urgent care or ER waiting for somebody else to do it. By Monday the infection had cleared up, and I still hadn't heard from the doctor's office. I finally called, and got an appointment to see him that afternoon.

The doctor described what he'd had to do. He had never seen the type of tear I had. It required two tissue anchors and a great deal of debridement to fix. I was so fascinated by the repair I forgot to ask about my collarbone. He said I need to be in the sling another four weeks at least, and need to start physical therapy. This will begin with passive movement of my shoulder. Since he really wants this to start right away, I'm having my massage therapist help me until the authorization comes through from my insurance company.

When he asked if I had any questions, I confronted him about the Norco debacle. He was quite apologetic. Due to a number of factors, the group he's with has a policy that they will not prescribe Vicodin. Ever. He did try to work out a way to do so for me, but was unsuccessful. He's willing to try other things, so I feel I'll be cared for. I have to say I was mollified by his apology and his willingness to seek alternatives.

I was afraid my injury was bad enough to require a long recovery, and I hate being right. My daughter has been riding Hoss for me, but she can't ride more than two or three days a week and can only ride right around home. I've been taking him on the morning walks still. This morning he tried to bolt when the dogs came running up behind him, snarling and barking at each other. It was quite funny. I'm sure if I'd let go, he would have run all the way home with the dogs! Don't worry, he didn't yank me. He didn't even put pressure on the lead rope.

It's gonna be a long haul on this recovery. So far I've managed not to completely lose my mind. I've figured out how to crochet with the sling on, although I'm way slower. At least it gives me something to do!