The Man Has Been Faking!

 I am happy to report that I am actually wearing clothes today! I have been living in nightgowns for the past week. Never, in my wildest dreams did I think I would be drowning in so much pain.

The amount of pain pills should have been a clue. The surgery went well, according to what the surgeon told The Man waiting for my release. He said the cyst was only the size of a quarter. This makes me wonder how something so small can cause my hand and fingers to hurt so much. My right arm is bruised almost to my elbow and my thumb and first four fingers are still blue and now turning yellow at the edges.

So, remember that I seemed to be on a quest to injure my toe as many times as I could before submitting my hand to be cut open. The laceration from the food processor hitting my foot has healed. No thanks to me dropping that shelf on the previous injury .... but wait, it gets better. During the night the toe began throbbing and was hot to the touch.

No, this can't be a gout attack. Or this is what I thought to myself, hoping to ward it off by not lending voice to my thoughts. I waited until morning to get a good look at the toe and then enlightened The Man that I had either broken some bones, or I was afflicted with my arch enemy, Gout. I didn't think it was likely that I had broken a bone, because that would have presented immediately with pain. It was definitely gout.

I presented myself to the hospital with one shoe on. I did wear a sock as I hobbled my way into the surgical area with the use of both hands. The nurse who checked me in and started the IV was wonderful. Very gentle and found that illusive vein without repeatably jabbing me. Then I chatted with the anesthesiologist before he injected whatever it was that sent me to sleep. Seems like no time passed and I was waking up, drinking ginger ale and thinking that I aced that surgery and didn't even hurt. My hand was still very numb.

They arranged to have the hospital pharmacy fill the prescriptions and deliver them to The Man in the waiting room. I do not remember dressing myself or most of the journey home. I hobbled into the house and was greeted by three dog snouts sniffing my bandaged hand. Kevin sauntered over to see what his canine buddies were up to and decided to head bump it. I felt a tingle as the numbing was wearing away. I read that a cat head bumps to show affection. I decided that Kevin and I needed to have a chat about that.

I settled into the recliner and took my first hydrocodone. I watched the TV for a bit, until that hydrocodone had me feeling like I was floating. I floated to my bed and slept the day away after getting up at 4 am to get to the hospital in time.

On my way to bed, I ducked under a cabinet door and came up too soon and whacked the top of my head. The top of my head has a nice bump on it and I can imagine how the bruise would look if I were bald.

I have never been without the use of both my hands and never want to be again! I spent the last 6 days in a nightgown and no under garments. It is difficult to pull pants down to be able to use the bathroom. But, today, my thumb is a lot more flexible, and I can manage clothes again. I drank the nasty cherry juice and the gout has subsided. 

I am able to get a shoe on the gouty foot now and I took a walk up the driveway to Wits End. I ambled through my gardens and even planted some little seedlings. It was good to feel dirt on my hands. I went inside to see that progress had simply halted since my last visit when I dropped the shelf on my toe. I will get the bandage off and the stitches out on Wednesday and hope that I can resume normal activities. It has been rather nice to just look at the dirty dishes and walk away while The Man took charge of my kitchen. He has also learned how to use the washer and dryer. All this time and he was faking his inability to do domestic chores!