For those of you who read my last post regarding my motorcycle mishap – I’d like to give you an update.
On Friday April 7th I checked into the hospital for outpatient surgery to repair my broken clavicle.
I’ve never been one to sing the praises of the medical industry, primarily because (as I mentioned in my original post) I have rarely had the opportunity to experience its workings first-hand.
My son is a nurse, as are several very close friends of mine. Knowing them as I do there has never been any doubt in my mind that people who devote their lives to the care and well-being of others are a special breed – so it should have been no surprise at the way I was treated in my six hour stay at the hospital.
Yet it was.
It’s one thing to know how that these people are special…it’s another thing altogether to be the person in the bed relying on total strangers to make you whole again.
I’m not the kind of person who gets nervous or anxious in unknown situations. I have a tendency to just roll with things. This may be due, at least in part, to the fact that my guardian angel has seen me through some pretty hairy scenarios, so I think I’ve come to rely on the knowledge that, in the words of Bob Marley, “every little thing…gonna be all right.”
That being said, I will confess to a small amount of concern when it came time to enter “pre-op”.
I don’t know if the staff could tell or not, but every single person I encountered – from the volunteers, to the nursing staff, to the nurse anesthetists, to the surgeon, seemed to go above and beyond to ease my mind.
When it was time to leave the hospital, and remember, I was only there for about six hours, three of which were spent under heavy sedation, saying goodbye to the staff was like saying goodbye to a group of friends when it’s time to leave a party.
Anyway, back to the point of the story…the surgeon repaired my clavicle by realigning the two ends of the bone, then installing a metal plate along the top which he attached with ten screws.
Given the amount of pain I had been in prior to surgery, I sort of expected it to continue unabated. I couldn’t have been more wrong!
I’m not saying I left the hospital pain-free…but the discomfort I felt on the way home was a walk in the park compared to what I felt on the way in – and with each day it gets better and better!
I still have to take it easy and wear a sling part of the time, and I can only type with one hand for the time being, but I’m not complaining!
Next week I’ll go back to have the staples removed from the incision, (I’m going to have an awesome scar!!) then I’ll start physical therapy. I don’t know the timeline for my full return to normal yet, but it shouldn’t be too long.
In the meantime, I’ve got lots of spare time on my hands so I’ll get as much writing done as a one-armed man can do.
One more thing…if you know a nurse or a doctor, or even a guy who sweeps floors in a hospital…thank them for me.
As always – thank you for reading