The Buffy

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My life is pretty dull. I play with a toddler, watch a lot of Yo Gabba Gabba and experiment with the crock pot. I have no bed time and I find humor in Laffy Taffy jokes. Conan O'Brien is my anti-drug.

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

The things they don't tell you before surgery

You know what they don't tell you about knee surgery (or any other kind of surgery)? Have you ever taken prescription opiates? You cannot poop when you take opiates. It's one of those things I wish they had told me last time. It would've saved me a lot of trouble. And now I hear the stories about people who are prescribed medications to help them poop. That's bullshit! I would like to poop! And I don't mean the nervous poops I always get prior to surgery or any kind of stressful event. Why can't I get some magical prescription for pooping?! Take your fiber, take a Senna pill, it'll be great! That's at least what my lovely nurse told me this time around. Yeah... I would've liked to have known that last time as well. Disclaimer: I could not poop. It was horrid/hilarious/horrid.

On a similar note, I don't want to be a professional pill popper. I was scared to high hell I was going to wake up one day legit addicted to Oxy so I barely took them when I needed them. I'm sure that helped all of nothing.

Something else that people don't tell you about surgery on your knee is that you can't get your ass up the stairs. I literally butt-scooted up my beautiful stairwell. That's after being under anesthesia obviously so I'm sure I looked like a drunk dog trying to get shit off of her butt. You know, while going upstairs.

Weight gain. Effing weight gain. They're literally cutting a piece of my body and taking it away from me but I swell 10 pounds worth of water. Okay, but then I can't eat for several days which equates to a loss of, say, 5 pounds. Now I'm averaging a gain of about 5 over the course of the week, right?
Wrong. Because the second I can start eating, I binge like it's shark week and ultimately gain another 5 pounds, putting me 10 lbs ahead of my starting point. So that's cute.

And the gawkers! Holy shit, the gawkers. We went on a date one week post op. I had a full leg brace which apparently then meant I was somewhere between being a smelly person or having some absurd deformity. Brett obviously said that it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought and I was beautiful and no one was looking at me (bla bla bla), but people were giving me this huge birth like I was pregnant with spiders. Nope, just in the brace. Carry on, fools.
Oh! And I drive an SUV. It's pretty nice. But getting that leg brace inside SUV? I have to put my seat all the way back, swing my leg in, push the seat all the way forward, I adjust about 40 times to get the right distance from my foot and the brake pedal.

Kids become hellacious hell beasts from hell the minute you are cut open. Don't pre-clean your home. It is futile. 

I learned something new about myself post op too! Apparently anesthesia makes me vomit like I'm being exorcised. Straight up Omen Damien shit.  It was really cute how they gave me a little packet to sniff, like that was going to make me feel all better. Actually it did work. That kind of pisses me off too. Really?! I can convince my brain not to purge all of the nonexistent food in my stomach by just smelling something? Why can't I also just sniff something to get myself to stop eating all the damn time?

So there you go. The night before my second knee surgery in a little over a year and I'm remembering all of the silly stuff that sucks balls but you'll never hear about.

You're welcome.

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