Surgery

Last Friday (June 26) Roland went in to have his second ACL replacement surgery. His first was in 2003 and he has been needing it redone for quite some time, so we finally just did it.

The day starts bright and early. We went to bed kind of late as Roland was trying to savor every last second of his operating knee. Roland's mom was in town watching the cousins so she was kind enough to take our kids as well. We dropped them off at 6:30am and Weston was super excited to get to playing!

We arrived at the surgical center at 6:50am. We were told to get there at 7:00am so we were quite proud of ourselves. Then the waiting game began. I am not really sure why we were told to get there so early. Roland and I just sat there in anticipation. It is bad enough that you are about to have surgery, but then they make you sit there and think about it forever. I think we heard enough about Michael Jackson's death to last us a lifetime as this was the only thing on the television all morning. The surgery was scheduled for 9:30am and Roland was finally called back around 8:15am. They prepped him and then I joined him in the back.

The waiting game continued. Poor Roland was just getting antsy with anticipation and I was getting pretty anxious myself. 8:30 came and went, 8:45, 9:00, 9:30 (scheduled surgery time), 9:45, 10:00, 10:30, 10:40! We were getting pretty upset at this point. Finally the Dr came in and told us he was running late (ya think?!). He discussed the surgery with us, then told us that we would get started as soon as the room was ready. The anesthesiologist came in and discussed the anesthesia options with us then told us he would be with us shortly.

At 10 past 11 the anesthesiologist came back and set up his things. He put the "happy juice" in Roland's IV and the fun began. Roland immediately got dizzy and I could tell he was trying really hard to focus. He told me that everything was "fuzzy" and that he had a "hard time talking." He says this very calculated and it was still slurred pretty bad. The anesthesiologist takes out his big needle and begins the nerve block by shooting medicine through the nerve in his groin. It looked painful but was really interesting to watch on the ultrasound. By this point Roland thinks everything is hilarious and makes absolutely no sense while he is talking. The good news is that I know that he loves me more than anything. With all inhibitions down, he would not stop talking about how pretty I was and how nice I was. He starts telling me that my face is pretty, my nose is pretty, my eyeballs are pretty, etc. He stares at me and tells me that he is so happy that he married me. Talk about an esteem booster! He should go under more often!

The anesthesiologist sat with us while we waited for the room. Roland continued to entertain the both of us. I remember he looks at me and in his slurred speech says, "I can't keep my eyes open." I can see him straining to do so, then with a whole lot of effort pops his eyes open as wide as he possibly can. He turns to me and says, "I did it!" I could not stop laughing.

Finally at 11:20am they wheel him away. Kind of pathetic for a 9:30am appointment time and 7:00am arrival time. Oh well. Roland gives me a kiss and then yells "Tally-ho!" Off he goes...

Two hours later the Dr finds me in the waiting room. He tells me that everything went well and that he was able to successfully attach the graft and was also able to repair a lot of the meniscus. He left and I continued to wait until the nurses came for me. Another 45 minutes pass and a nurse comes to get me. She warns me that he has been singing to everyone and that we might still be there for quite some time.

I pull back the curtain to see a jolly Roland who is singing, laughing, and slurring everything he is trying to say. He starts talking to me and asks (in Spanish) what time it is. The nurse tells him that it is 2:15. Roland heard 3:15 so he yells out "3:15?!!!!!" I think she is annoyed of him by this point so yells back "2!" Roland turns to me and (in Spanish again) tells me that the surgery took forever. I asked him why he is speaking in spanish and he replies (in Spanish again) "because I can!" Of course he just has this drunk look on his face the whole time.

The nurse begins to tell me all of the post-op information that we will need to know when we get home. I do not remember anything she says as all I can hear is Roland making little comments about everything she is saying. He is louder than her so I have to strain to hear anything. He comments on the post-op instructions, how sparkly her glasses are, how nice she is, how pretty I am, etc. Oh gosh! Then she hands me a paper of some pictures from the surgery. Roland exclaims, "Sweetie, you can scrapbook!" and has a cheesy little smile on his face. Before she leaves, she asks how tall he is so that she can get the crutches ready. He replies, "5 foot 6 but it would be nice if you could give me some knee implants to give me a couple inches."

The nurse leaves, which leaves me with my high-as-a-kite husband. He sings, does the robot, does the wave, does fish lips, mimics the sound of his heart rate on the monitor, flexes when the blood pressure cuff tries to take his pressure, talks gibberish about all sorts of theories that are in his head, etc. I am able to capture a lot of this on video on my digital camera. I just had to prove to him what he did. At one point he asks me for more juice in his cup. I told him that we are going to leave soon so he will just have to eat the ice chips in the cup. He is upset that he can't get any juice so he begrudgingly takes the cup and downs the ice chips. The straw goes flying out of the cup and falls to the floor. He goes in for a second time and this time he takes a big bite out of the styrofoam cup and begins chewing. I have to take the cup away and stick my fingers into his mouth to retrieve the piece he is masticating. This is going to be a long day!

Eventually I think they get tired of us and realize that it will be quite some time before he is somewhat sane again. So, the nurse agrees to let us go. Roland was anxious to get the gown off that he wouldn't even wait to let me help. He grabs the crutches at the side of his bed and tries to get up. Both the nurse and I tell him he needs to sit back down. I take the crutches from him and told him he needs to wait. I leave to go get the car and told him to stay and wait for the nurse. He yells back "well I am not going anywhere now that you took my mode of transportation!!!" He was not happy at all!

On the way home, Roland continues to talk and talk. He tells me that he wants ice cream but when I tell him we only have sorbet at home, he goes off on his soap box about how it tastes like watered down yoohoo. He also teaches me his theory about tools and how we should start up a business where we can hire tools for a job and then fire them when we are done. He went off about how they can retire and who knows what else. He also explained to me that tools don't speak English, but instead they speak hand. This is why Handy Manny has his name. As we pull into the drive thru pharmacy, he yells at a landscaper for being in the lane without a car. He continues to babble but I don't really remember much. I must say, it was quite entertaining to see what goes on in that head of his.

Poor Weston did not like what was going on. He was so upset to see Daddy with bandages all over his leg, a large brace, and his leg in his workout machine. He kept whining and crying and wanting to be close to Daddy. As the days went on, he was fascinated by his crutches. He helped Daddy walk with his crutches, and always had to be transporting the crutches to some location around the house. Unfortunately, he took a little spill and ended up toppling over the crutches and cutting open his head.

Roland is recovering well. He is well stocked on percocet which provides us with spontaneous loopiness. He is starting to be able to walk around more than before and is doing well with his exercises. Hopefully this will be a relatively quick process. We can't wait to have him back!