I tore the anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) in my right knee playing softball on June 24. I got a base hit was running toward second base when I tried to stop. I felt and heard a loud pop, I took a tumble and immediately knew something was wrong. I needed help getting off the field, went to the doctor soon after and was diagnosed with the torn ligament. I debated bypassing the surgery because I was walking OK and didn't want to go through the extensive rehabilitation. After speaking with doctors and a few friends whose opinions I value, I decided to go through with the surgery.
I was told to arrive at Christ Hospital in Oak Lawn, IL this morning at 6am. I woke up at 5am and took a shower and drove over to my parents house. I needed someone to drive me home after surgery and help with any other issues I might have at the hospital. I'm lucky that they are around to help. We arrived at the hospital right at 6am.
I checked in, signed a few documents and was brought to a pre-surgery room to change into a hospital gown. It was about 6:20am at this point and the nurse told me that surgery was scheduled to begin around 8am. With some time to kill, my parents came into the room to hangout and talk. A few different nurses were in and out. One hooked up an IV, another helped fill out some paperwork, others just stopped in to say hi and good luck. Everyone was very friendly and helpful.
A young doctor, my surgeon's assistant / trainee / protege came in to say hello. He fiddled with my knee a bit, asked which knee was being worked on, etc. I must have been asked 7 times by 6 different people what knee was being operated on. Better safe than sorry I guess. By the third time, I wanted to have some fun with them and say "Knee surgery, no, no, no. This is a gender reassignment." But I chickened out and just kept saying, "right knee".
At about 7:40am a nurse wheeled me out of the pre-surgery room towards surgery. They parked me in a room, gave me some oxygen and took my vitals. My surgeon stopped by, asked what knee we were operating on, and initialed my knee just to be sure. He gave me a run down about what was about to happen. I was going to receive a "nerve block" in my right thigh, which would numb my leg for about 16 hours. After the surgery, I would have a knee brace and be able to put pressure on the leg as soon as the next day. He told me to change my bandage in two days, not to shower for five days, and that we would have a follow-up appointment in ten days. The anesthesiologist came by to introduce himself, explain the nerve block and just double check with me if I was taking any medications to avoid any complications.
It was go time. I was wheeled into surgery, the room felt like it was about 50 degrees. The doctors were talking about Ferraris. Seriously. They placed a mask over my face and I was soon out for the count.
When I woke up, I was in the recovery room, which I think was more of a hallway with a series of curtained off spaces. I could be wrong about that though, this is by far the haziest part of my day and I don't have much recollection from here and up until I saw my parents back in the pre-surgery room in which I had began the day. My leg was totally numb from the thigh down from the nerve block, it was a really bizarre feeling. I was given some water, crackers, and pain meds and told to relax in the room until I felt a little less woozy.
Once I was ready to go, I got into a wheelchair and was wheeled out of the hospital. Every small bump I hit in the wheelchair caused me to cringe. I got into the car and it was worse. Chicago area roads and train tracks can be pretty rough on people's cars. They're even tougher on a guy with a recently operated on knee. I couldn't wait to get home and lay down.
When I got home, I got into bed and propped my leg under some pillow and just laid there. This is the part of the day I was dreading the most. Just home, big brace on my knee, big bandage, knee throbbing, and a long recovery ahead. As I'm laying here I'm thinking this is exactly why I didn't want to go through with surgery in the first place. The pain meds weren't doing much for me at this point, but I didn't want to overdo it with those, so i literally bit a rag on and off for about an hour. I ate a turkey sandwich, we ordered pizza, ate some of that too. Popped 2.5 of these pain pills in my mouth, took down some water and went back to lay down and ice my knee.
Within an hour my head was spinning, I was drifting in and out and really feeling nauseous (a side effect of these pain meds). I had to get up. I struggled to my feet and began to crutch into the living room where my parents were hanging out. I saw a plastic bag on the dining room table and grabbed it just in case Cousin Ralph was coming over. I just to the living and the feeling hit, not nearly enough time to get to the bathroom, so i puked right there in the living room. I got the majority of it in the bag but there was a bit on the floor that my poor mother had to clean up. Sorry Ma. By now it was about 930pm and I decided to call it a night, I laid down probably falling asleep around 1030pm.
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