Surgery

I had surgery on my wrist yesterday to finally (hopefully!) get rid of my cyst. It is on my left handed wrist.

So I am one handed typing and grateful for autocorrect.

On Friday afternoon, the hospital called with last minute instructions.  They told me I couldn't wear any jewelry.  I said, "I have rings I can't get off."

The lady said, "Try really hard."

So I did.

Soap, ice water, elevation, a ribbon trick I saw after googling.  I got one of the three rings off.  (I haven't taken my rings off much at all, but definitely not since I was pregnant with Braeden 24 years ago and my fingers swelled.

They were stuck.

I had Adam try and he said he was afraid he was going to dislocate my finger.

I called the doctor's office back and said, "Do I need to have them cut off?"

They talked to the doctor and called me back and said yes.

I called my dad.  He said he could cut them off easily.  He said, "Stop by."

I asked him what tools I needed to go buy to do it myself.  He said, "Do you have pruners?"

I said, "Yes, but they can't cut the ring."

He said, "No, for your finger."

Ha.

Ha.

After I talked to him I told Adam what we needed to go to Home Depot for.  Adam said, "I am not doing that."

He was afraid of hurting me, which I can appreciate in a husband, but I asked him where his sense of adventure was.

Adam said, "Let's drive to Nevada."

He's always up for a road trip but I have met our to do list.

The doctor's office recommended a jeweler to get them cut off, so I called a jeweler.  They said they didn't cut off rings, but I could call the non emergency fire department number and they would do it.

So that was my next try and finally success!

They took my temperature and asked me if I had any of the Covid 19 symptoms.  We sat around a table in masks and three burly firefighters used various tools and cut off my rings.  I chatted with the captain about the fire danger from brush fires this year while he had a flattened spoon jammed under my ring, another guy was cutting with a Dremel tool and the third was dripping water on my hand because the friction made it hot.

It was a little surreal.  But not as surreal as my ringless hands.

The firefighters said they felt bad about cutting the rings, but I assured them my dad could fix them.

It's nice to have a dad who can fix things.

Yesterday morning we went bright and early.  Adam held my hand the entire way because he knew I was nervous.  He had to just drop me off though and wait for the call when I was done.  It was strange and the whole experience was kind of strange.  One second the anesthesiologist said, "OK, here comes the happy juice," and the next second I was waking up and they were telling me it was over.  But it was an hour later.

I was happy to see Adam.  He was able to be in the recovery with me which was good because I was very hazy on the instructions they gave me.

Before the surgery I asked the doctor when I would be able to use my wrist because I am left handed. He said he would put a splint on it for two weeks but after the initial 3-5 days(!) of keeping it elevated, I could use it.

I was picturing a small little splint and I got this:

You can't really tell in the picture but it is a few inches below my elbow.  It feels like a lot.  Emma calls me Clubby.

Yesterday I felt pretty awful and reading and talking on the phone made me dizzy.  Adam and Mark set up a little station in our room so I could elevate my arm on the bed.

Adam is having such a busy time at work but he took good care of me (Emma worked all day and Mark was gone too).

At one point Adam came to check on me and he laughed at my "spread" and took a still life picture to send the kids.

It's my everything hurts and I'm dying pose.

Also, I see the towel Adam gave me for a bib when I was eating soup with my right hand.  I see the cup he brought me with milk and the McDonald's cup from the drive-thru on the way home when I felt nauseous and he bought me a Diet Coke.

The wedding ring is broken but I'm keeping that guy.

Last night at midnight when I was medicated and frustrated and having a come apart (I was not made for sitting around and letting other people wait on me when I can't even read or be marginally productive), I found Adam in his office, working.  This month has been a beast for him.  Adam rubbed my back and said, "I have three Supreme Court decisions to tell you about to put you to sleep."

It worked.

Nothing like a little wrist surgery to remind you much you love your husband.