Pain Rehab kicked my butt. It chewed me up, spit me out, and had me not quite sure which way was up...But I survived, and gained some things. Obviously I gained knowledge of how to deal with the pain. I gained strength from PT. The best part, however, was the fact that I gained a friend. She's 23, and basically me...With a few differences. It was so great just to have someone my age to talk to, who wholly understands the pain issues, and is also living with the same, and wanting some of the same things, mainly some semblance of normality. She doesn't live near here, but the wonders of the internet let me keep in contact with her, and for this I am grateful.
My first activity post-rehab was the Warped Tour. For those of you unfamiliar with this event, it's a summer concert tour, of mostly rock, pop-rock, screamo, electronica, punk, and ska music. It's outdoors, and has upwards of 50 bands playing on about 6 different stages. I've been going every year since 2004. A friend of mine, who also went, told me she was glad that I came, because July was a very difficult month for me, and I needed something fun. Oh, and it was fun! Despite the 90+ degree weather, I met up with and hung out with friends, saw my little cousin enjoying her very first Warped Tour, and saw/heard some amazing bands. It really did start August on a high note.
August 3 I had surgery to remove the plate in my left leg. My surgeon, whom we'd begun to dislike following my first surgery after he took over for my previous surgeon, proved that his ego is more developed than his bedside manner. After beginning to backtrack on plans we'd made months prior about this surgery while I was in pre-surg, I knew this was going to suck. Post-op in the PACU, they could not get the pain under control. They started with Dilaudid, 5mg doses, every 5 minutes, with a max of 500mg. They maxed me out, and I was still extremely uncomfortable. So, again, 5mg, every 5 minutes, with a max of 500mg. When they finally got the pain under control, I had received a FULL GRAM of Dilaudid. Keep in mind that I am a 144 pound female with no history of drug use/abuse. My surgeon then didn't decide for several hours whether or not to admit me (it was supposed to be a same-day surgery, but it never is for me, because I have complications). When I finally was admitted, it was 6:30pm, and the hospital kitchen was CLOSED. I couldn't get anything more than a turkey sandwich, and when you haven't eaten since 12am, a sandwich isn't gonna cut it. Thankfully, me being a resourceful college student, who attended school in the area last year, I knew of a good order online Chinese/Cambodian place, and we got food from there. The rest of my stay in the hospital included talking with many of the nurses who remembered me from my previous surgeries, and getting increasingly angry with my surgeon. He doesn't know it, but at my 6week follow-up appointment. He's getting fired. If I ever have to see a doc at that hospital again, it will not be him.
Anyways, I'm still healing, and my body likes to shoot my temp up to 99° and sap my energy, so it's off to bed with me. Hope you're all well!