Something for your weekend, actual surgery footage

Music: Isles and Glaciers:Viola Lion

I’m out of acronyms. Discontinued.

A lesson about wordpress and other blogging software for those who ever want to start a blog: Storage space called ‘hosting’ (think Dr. Evil, “laser beam”) costs money. They give you a small part for free and the rest is pay per usage. Call it the drug dealer model.

Anyway that to say this is a post involving a video of ACL surgery, mostly because I was curious. The video is about an hour long-I didn’t watch the whole thing and I seriously doubt any of you will, so here’s the link and I’ve spelled out some highlights you should skip to, if you, you know, want to see somebody drill into a knee.

Which you do. Here’s the link, and I suggest you open it in a new tab or window so you can read my snarky comments as the video plays.

ACL reconstruction

2:30 seconds: Harvesting the hamstring tendon. This, hopefully, will once and for all disprove Justin’s theory that the hamstring tendon was retrieved anally. Also I have a very similar looking wound beside my knee.

9:00 Preparing the new ACL. Surgeons are probably excellent knitters. Stitching one tendon (hamstring) into something completely different (ACL) is a fascinating process to me. Plus you should see his embroidery.

20:00 Drilling into the knee. Oh here it comes. Drilling into bone makes a much softer sound than I was anticipating.

34:00 Drill goes all the way through the knee. Did not realize that happened. I wonder if they would let me keep the drill for Halloween?

36:00 Counter-sinking drill holes. I’m familiar with this technique from woodwork. I suppose it works on bone as well.

39:00 What the ACL looks like before it goes in. Ew. Kind of like a sinewy hot dog.

41:00 Screwdriver to the knee. That is literally a tool I have in the shed out back. Makes you wonder what surgery is like in the deep south.

“Hey J. R., grab me that bottle opener, half of that old oil can, and some lug nuts.”

47:30 Twisting, tightening, other things I don’t quite understand. Ah, so the big bruise hurt more than the little ones because there were lots of things going in and out of there for an hour.  Lets not do that again.

Kudos to my physical therapist, James, for pointing out ORlive.com to me. Now I just REALLY hope watching surgery’s doesn’t become a hobby of mine…(Check out total knee replacement, like a horror movie)

Until next time! I suppose I could tell you about physical therapy, and other exciting happenings! Stay tuned!

This was probably not the drill used, but I needed a picture to get you here

Redefining the pain scale, 1-10

Music: Metallica, Bleeding Me

ACL: A compensatory list

 

One of the questions you get asked literally every doctors appointment and physical therapy session is “How would you rate your pain on a scale of 1-10?” Now as someone trained in social research, I could tell  you that scales undefined do not carry a lot of meaning if the person responding does not know what they are comparing.

And I worry about things like this.

 

For the greater good of the medical profession, I have defined my own pain scale of 1-10.

 

 

1. Bunnies

As we are starting with the low end of the scale, a ‘1’ will signify adorable, cuddly bunnies. 1, clearly, is not so bad

2. Asparagus, eaten, cooked, or smelled.

Looks, tastes, and feels like something found at the bottom of a lake. Not food, no matter what I’ve been told

3. Rihanna

Clearly cannot sing, voice resembles animals dying painfully.

4. Racking your funny bone

Bash elbow into door frame, make face like so. Don’t let friends see you cry

5. Chewing tinfoil.

Go on, think ‘chew’.
I feel unclean

6.  Watching 16 and pregnant

Included because the show is (presumably) awful, but also that it represents encouraging teenagers to get pregnant for TV fame. Thanks MTV, no way the next generation will have long lasting and permanent scaring from your afternoon programming.

7. Going hiking with your dog, he gets into a nest of yellow jackets, and before you can say ‘poor guy’ he comes barreling straight your way.

Spud no longer likes bees

8. Road rash

Ever fallen off a bike and thought, “Don’t worry, the nice soft concrete will catch me and break my fall?”

9. Beaten with a bag of hammers

Whereas the bunny (1) is cute and cuddly, hammers, not so much. I include this because in the first week I actually responded in this way to the pain question: I feel less like I got beaten with a bag of hammers than I did yesterday. Eugena was confused

10. Walking on by the ocean with a wet bathing suit and no boxers

I include this as my ’10’ because it is one of the worst things I have ever experienced in my life. I once took a long, long walk down the beach after a swim, might as well have been wearing a thong made of sandpaper and poison ivy. While getting smacked in the neither region by a midget holding a cactus.

 

If you ever have surgery I encourage you to invent your own scale, but if you don’t want to take the time, feel free to use mine.

 

I’m somewhere between Rihanna’s new single and being beaten with a bag of hammers. Not as far off as you would think.

This may be a “Don’t hate me because your boyfriend thinks I’m beautiful” moment

Music: Florence + the Machine : Cosmic Love

ACL: A Campy Lead

Before I post this, I realize many of my female readers will throw tomatoes at me the next time they see me. What follows is an account of weight falling off me when I’ve done nothing but sit around for three weeks. I certainly do not wish to be the cause of any rage eating. Before you think, “I’ll show that skinny punk, take that, chocolate chip cookie,” remember its all in good fun.

As I mentioned, I’ve lost 10 pounds in the last three weeks. I usually reside around 175, and as I stepped on the scale before writing this post, was around 162. Perhaps I could write a book about my miracle diet, something like

“Sloth, surgery, bagel bites, and you: how 10 days of eating frozen junk food and walking less than 100 feet a day can change your life”

Now, astute reader, I know you would ask, but wait, wouldn’t that weight loss be due at least in part to lost muscle?

And I would say, quietly, while filling a bathtub with with my millions in royalty money from the book sales and talk show appearances,  “Nailed it.” Just a note, I am wearing a bowlers hat  smoking a cigar in this fantasy.

I am usually much more badass when I picture myself in my head

Hey, it worked for the people who brought you the Acai Berry and Colon-blow.

The downside to losing weight, is of course the muscle that I’ve lost out of my thigh. Me of chicken legs to begin with, I can definitely tell I am slimmer in the calf and the thigh.

When I described my knee it looked like a bruised grapefruit and a hairless cat. Now, my leg more resembles this:

Notice the odd angular nobbiness

and kind of like this

Chosen for color and scarring

In actual knee news, I started physical therapy on Tuesday. Everyone is kind of surprised I’m walking; most people are apparently still on crutches for the few weeks after surgery. Clearly they did not see me in third grade, when I could have just as easily recited the Constitution as I could have sat still for an hour. Never spent much time trying to do either.

The other thing that’s been amusing to me is how everyone thinks there should be a slice on the back of my knee, as I used my hamstring to reconstruct the ACL. No dice, only the 2.5 inch vertical slice below and beside my knee cap.

Justin thinks they retrieved the graft through the rectum. I vehemently deny this accusation.

 

Happy Holidays! Be back soon, stay tuned!

Liberation from the CPM machine, and other tales

I, from the village of Joel, will not write a post about the CPM machine. I thought about it all week as it taxed my people, cut down my trees, and whatever else causes rebellions in the movies. My personal rebellion against the machine’s tyranny was to not write it a blog post.  Thought about it for three hours a day, going slowly up and down  in the blasted thing (note. do not know how I feel about swearing in my blog, some what of a public forum? Probably reconsider this point later. Consider post made up of only with swear words.)

Don’t let the plush and cushy exterior fool you, this is the oppressor.

(maybe next time)

My knee stretched from 0-90 degrees in a week. Think, lie on your back and lift your leg in to your chest, when your leg gets perpendicular to your body, that’s 90, 0 is full extension.  Can’t trust a font that does 0’s like that. Ol’ CPM may have left behind spies, can’t be too cautious.

By the way the first week of recovery includes a lot of Television. While I consider myself a man of great taste, of beers and cheeses and meats, of art and of belches equally grand, my television is not very sophisticated and diverse. My diet has been mainly fed sports and action movies over the course of a week.

Most of the shows, except say, PawnStars, feature guys jumping over or around or through stuff, mostly because I have always been on the verge to readily jump over, around or through stuff.

Watching this week, I think to myself:

Yeah I could do all that.

Also books, and I’ll go ahead and abandon my street cred, but I have been known to partake in comic books, graphic novels whatever you want to call em. Read them as a kid, tried again later, still fun. There are some good ones, but Alan Moore’s From Hell makes me want to abandon the genre, bad, boring, predictable; good for inducing naps naps, bug squishing.

I will say this about the last week, I got to re-read Slaughterhouse 5. If you asked me what it was about, in a word I would give you time travel. Further, war. And maybe that war never leaves you, and you never leave the war after what you’ve seen. And its Vonnegut, so naturally you will smirk and chuckle at things that should never be funny. You will enjoy it all the way down.

Anyway I leave you tonight with the lesson I learned tonight that I would have liked to know last week: just because you can’t feel you shin doesn’t mean you can’t touch it.

So good.

Though, not straight, exactly. I think.

I’ve read some other ACL blogs, and they talk about their knee and the actual recover more than I do.

Soft.

This is more fun.

Ever wondered what a knee drill looks like? Now you have.

Music: Beastie Boys: Sabatoge(RIP MCA, you will be missed)

ACL: A Crowded Library

Got to start by saying I was so right about you guys: the last post, which promised blood and guts was by far the most read of any day so far on this blog, so certainly I won’t dawdle long before I get to the promised goods: actual surgery pictures.

80 people read the article yesterday, and I think about that. Over the years I have added (and subtracted during the ‘great Facebook friend cut of 2010) my way to 184 Facebook friends. I would say I average about 10 interactions with people a week. They usually go like this:

Aaron posts something weird, and cool on my wall like cat skulls or spiders

Joe posts a grand adventure he’s plotting

Amanda checks in/I check in with Amanda/post picture or video of cute animals on Amanda’s wall (They make her happy), in fact I might do that today

I ‘like’ posts that some of my clever friends have posted about sports, boobs, beer, goverment, etc.

Anyway point of this is, 80 people read the blog because they were curious about surgery scars, but I’ll take what I can get. So I promise you this reader, if you ever have a surgery, yes, I want to see it. Even if we haven’t talked for years I will look at your surgery pictures and snicker to myself while I think of the different bruised fruits your wound most resembles.  (Mine I would say, bad grapefruit)

In all seriousness thank you for everyone who reads the blogs, and for all the kind words of encouragement that have come my way over the week since surgery. In the grand scheme of things I know ACL reconstruction is not that big a deal nowadays, but know you have the support of so many is certainly helpful. Like I said, if any of you ever need me to oogle your scars or help you make up funnier stories about how you got them (hazards of the naked bear fighting league), I am so there for you.

Without further ado, more gore! As promised: pictures from the inside of my knee surgery! Enjoy! I really don’t know what many of these are, so I’m going to make stuff up.

Top right, as labeled, is what the ACL looks like when ravaged by an alligator.

No bone fractures, which is good. Also if you’ll notice the empty space above the confetti, apparently that’s where the ACL is supposed to go.

(bottom right) This one shows the slight tear in the lateral meniscus. Should heal on its own

These are pictures, I have no idea of what.

Duno? looks important

These next few are my favorites. Bone drilling for the two holes on top and bottom of my knee. Again they attached the new ACL with a couple screws inserted into those holes. I think surgery is pretty badass in practice and in concept.

In order to put screws in you need holes, I suppose that little red thing is the drill. I imagine that can’t be a pleasant sound.

And the last one, boys and girls, is a brand new ACL! Don’t worry, you should see the other guy.

There so would have been room for at least a bottle opener or corkscrew

For next time: I have my follow up appointment this week, and I think we are going to take some stitches out, possibly start on physical therapy. I might even talk about the grind that is the CPM machine. I’ve been teasing that for a few posts, but don’t get set your expectations very low. Like Mississippi standardized testing low.

Stay tuned!

Post surgery pictures! (You know you’re curious)

I know what you’re asking yourself. What is a surgery blog with pictures of surgery? Sure he’s kind of cheeky and fun, but where the goods? Pony up because we want the gore!

Fear not, good reader, because I too grew up on Tarintino and the Terminator. I will not deprive you of the goods, and actually they are not as bad as I thought they would be.

So I’ll start you with this one, consider yourself buttered up.

Feeling better already, and how couldn’t you? Lucy is the model, of course, Perry the photographer

And here we get into the good stuff. As you can see the surgery was not too invasive, though it is much grosser without the yellow tape on it.

Tis but a fleshwound

The largest gash is the bottom one, it runs about an inch an a half on the side of my knee. This, I’m told is where they harvested two out of the five hamstring tendons to reconstruct the ACL. Not to get to into the technical terminology, but I’m pretty sure they connected the cajigger to the whatsit, and tied them together with the whodathunk.

Side of the knee, resembles Mackauly Caulkin at the end of my girl.

Further, as you can see I can three holes in my knee, two at the bottom and one at the top. Microscope surgery and what not, with a couple bore holes into the upper and parts of the knee to reattach the tendon.

After four days. I’m and walking. Ish. Not graceful, not fast, and I’m still prone to occasional flailing of the arms and legs. Think of the little kids trying not to fall into the pool in the summer time except on land with no pool to fall into. Come to think of it, my walking right now kind of reminds me of this:

But hey, as per the Joel mantra, what can you do?

For the tease for next time, I have some pictures taken during the surgery as seen from the inside of the scope. So if you ever wanted to know what the inside of your knee looks like as its being cut/drilled into, stay tuned! (By the way the torn ACL before it was repaired looks a lot like shredded tissue paper)

Did not realize how suggestive this pose was. Drink it in. Don’t act like you’re not impressed

A somewhat stoned recounting of surgery

Well this should be interesting. Forewarning, I have been out of surgery almost 24 hours the pills are flowing and for your entertainment: a somewhat inebriated recounting of surgery. I am happy to report I am alive and kicking, though not literally.

I’m torn about this one (More jokes!) mostly because if you know anything about me and my clan, it’s that Gerber’s do not complain, ever. We are tough, often at the expense of smart, and damn good at it. For example Justin still thinks all medical emergencies can be solved with duct tape. Right, not a medical tool. I, on the other hand, would advocate towards super glue for a remedy for most minor cuts. Cut your finger nearly off carving pumpkins (Justin) just go upstairs and hide it, take a swan dive head first into to corner of the desk (still have a dent in my head) it will stop bleeding eventually, and it did, three days later.

While we’re on the subject of my brother I thought he had some valuable suggestions presurgery. 1) We discussed the possibility of a ‘swiss-army kneecap’. Cork screw, bottle opener, you name it and talk about a cool part trick. 2) He suggested swapping the part out with the knee of someone more athletic (read, black) to improve my leaping ability/dance moves. 3) Say to the surgeon, “Hey, while your down there, why not adding a few inches to lil’ Joel?

Unfortunately, just surgery. Nothing cool or laser guided. So, surgery as best as I recall it:

I went in in the morning, waited a while, put on the hospital dress (I felt very pretty), and then they shaved my knee, all the way around the knee. It looked kind of like this:

Kind of like this

and kind of like this

Last thing I remember I was being wheeled into the operating room, the nurse says “This will take the edge off,”

In the movies, you would pull a CUT TO: THREE HOURS LATER…. Waking up from surgery takes a while, apparently. I have bits and pieces, so here’s what I remember in no particular order: Dry lips, cotton mouth, leg has trippled in size! No, just padding, phew. What level of pain are you in on a scale of 1-10, like every minute. I think I answered orange. Funny Joel has jokes. Pain pills, nap, Amanda, sandwich, crackers, more pills more nap.

Not sure how or why this happened, but I kind of came out of surgery looking yellowish. Perhaps the surgeon took pity on my pale-ness, and ordered a spray tan while we were at it.

Snooki?

Now I want to mention Eugena, my night nurse. She was my favorite, Russian I think  (In Soviet Russia, knee operates on YOU). Now I believe Russians are all inherently part bear, and Eugena was no exception (Strong like BULL).

So the fun part about surgery, apparently they don’t let you sleep. If you’ve never been woken up every hour on the hour by your own personal Russian dancing bear you simply have not lived. Checked my temperature, blood pressure, ice packs, and everything else you are loathe to do at two, three, four, etc. in the morning. Charming woman.

Today I have caught up on my sleep, composed sonnets, and have tried out the misery of the CPM machine. More on that later, I’m sure.

Thanks for reading, Be good, stay tuned!

Five reasons why I hope actual surgery is not like Grey’s Anatomy

Music: Iron & Wine: Arms of a thief

ACL: A crazy lust

Certainly living with Amanda these last four months has changed some of my habits. I have learned things like putting kitchen utensils back where you found them, why separating laundry matters and all sorts of bathroom etiquette (Girls appeal to a higher standard of clean, no more smell test).

One of the things living with Amanda has also changed is the television I watch. There are, apparently, hundreds of channels on TV that do not show sports. Weird I know. Not that there’s anything wrong with 17 hours a day of Sports Center. So we watch some TV together at night, and she will watch football or college basketball, but the rest doesn’t stick so much. Can’t blame her.

By the way do you see a trend here? This is a blog about my upcoming knee surgery, and I like to open with long, ramblesome expanded metaphors. Because if you’ve come this far, I think you’ll stick around for the goods.

Anyway one of the shows she watches…..and yes you could read between the lines that I watch it too though I WILL NOT say it….is Grey’s Anatomy.

You know, the one with the pretty doctors saying medical terms and fretting about everything EXCEPT the person they are operating on?

Here are my top five reasons why I hope actual surgery differs from TV surgery.

5. Emotional baggage is the most interesting thing going on at a hospital.

Your boyfriend is cheating on you, or you or cheating on him, or you are cheating on Jesus (weird), or you have mommy issues, or you adopt children, or fight back white walkers beyond the wall (wait, wrong show), and all the while the show devotes 50 minutes to drama, and 5 minutes to medicine. Personally, I appreciate the entertainment value of Maury Povich I would just like to think surgeons are emotional stable people, and leave their baggage at the door.

Of course that’s difficult when the person helping you operate is *gasp* your once/past/future lover/sex object/unwitting member of a bizarre love triange. Which brings us to…

4. Odd sexual glances from over the surgery mask. 

I would think writing a TV show for 8 years is difficult, you eventually run out of things to do. Fortunately, there is nearly an unlimited supply of medical terminology for pretty actors to say. If it ain’t broke…

Anyway the tour de force of Grey’s Anatomy is the the over-the-mask sexual glance. I picture the planning meetings go something like: “Yeah, surgery is cool, but you know what it’s lacking? Sexual tension. Now that’s what I call a plot twist.” And the only way to do it? Zoom in on the eyes, make love to the camera, look like you have a little sneaky secret that only you, and the other four people you have slept with in the OR know about. Which brings us to…

3. Is anyone allowed in the operating room?

So a there was a terrible trampoline accident, and bodies start rolling into the ER, people are screaming, blood is shooting everywhere like a squirt gun filled with cool-aid, and you, and only you have the power to save this insignificant, nameless person. Surgery is going well… you’re connecting the whatever to the whatever, bring me some of that whatever, STAT!… when out of nowhere, your lesbian lover (and her secret boyfriend) decide to scrub into the operating room.

Because now is a good time to talk. And hey listen, I know we’re legally married in the state of California, but I’m just exploring my emotions right now in a sexual way.

Fortunately, for watchers, the other selling point is right around the corner: a strong moral message about how hard the choices in life can be, which brings us to…

2. WHERE IS THAT VOICE COMING FROM?!? IS THE NARRATION IN MY HEAD?! SERIOUSLY, DO YOU GUYS HEAR THIS?! 

Perhaps all surgeons share a collective subconscious voice that gives sound to all their thoughts. Perhaps that voice belongs to a middle-aged, bulldog-faced lady doctor.

When the plot meanders together in the end of the episode, and the voice over starts with “Sometimes when you’re alone, and the watching…,” throw in a couple “…because you never know…the most important things in life…don’t know ’till it’s gone…” and you’re done. But all the doctors are hearing this right? Or maybe hearing voices is part of being a surgeon.

I can’t think of a clever segway. Which brings us to..

1. Melancholy and the Unnecessary sadness 

You know when you start an episode with a mother picking out baby names, or the young man talking about his big life plans, or the bus full of orphans going on a field trip, or the penguin laying an egg, that things are probably not going to work out to well in the future for that person. (So I haven’t seen a Grey’s Anatomy about penguins, but imagine the saddest thing you can think of happening to a penguin in surgery….If only he could lift his flipper a little further….)

Basically you present a patient; this is a person with something they want to do, and for effect we are going to kill them off before the episode ends. Cut to: skateboard with wheels spinning, abandoned teddy bear, penguin egg cracked, cold, alone. Sadness floods the room.

Certainly they are not the first to use this device. Ever read Hemingway’s six word story?

For Sale, baby shoes, never worn.

There. Now you have. Don’t say I never taught you anything.

So all that to say this, surgery on Thursday, 10 AM. Little nervous.