Tag Archives: neck surgery

Two Weeks and Counting

12 Oct

I had the surgery on my neck two weeks ago today, and since then I have not had a single moment when my back hurt, my legs gave me fits, or any of the other ills that have plagued me for decades.

A couple of years ago I had a mass removed from one armpit, and for the last six months I have been seeing a pain management specialist for what he called “sympathetic pain”. Gone.  There are times when I felt as if somebody was pounding ten-penny nails into my heels, and that is gone. I have had Restless Leg Syndrome since the early 80s, and was up to 2 mg. of clonazepam every night to keep that under control. The last two nights I’ve only taken one mg. I’ll stay on that for a while, and then start cutting them in half.

As Peg said, I won’t know how to walk without all those pebbles in my shoes!

I do still have a pretty ugly scar across my neck, but it is fading. We’re having a Halloween Haunted House at church in a few weeks, and I told the committee I’ll just spread some ketchup over it, and I’ll fit right in.



Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity-Jog

28 Sep
Just to let you that know I am, as a former rector used to say, upright and taking nourishment. Got home shortly after noon, went to the bathroom while The Squire fixed the sofa bed, and fell asleep on the commode. He fixed me a cup of coffee, and tucked me into bed. My hearing is very, very sharp, but I slept through the long-case clock beside the living room door striking every fifteen minutes, so I must have been just plain dead to the world.
I slept until Brian, my boss, came over around 3:15 with a bouquet of pink roses, ferns, and ornamental grasses from their garden. Sweet of him. Nobody can sleep through the doorbell and Blazer barking!
The surgeon went in through the front, so I have a huge bandage between my Adam’s apple and my chin. Because he was cutting so close to my spinal cord, there was a lady doing a constant EMG on my scalp, arms, and legs to make sure things were still working as they should. Plastic disc to replace the mashed “real” one, with a titanium plate – all MRI compatible, so they tell us. One nice thing this hospital does is ask you how you’d like to be addressed, rather than automatically calling you by you bare-nekkid first name. I just find being called “Anne” by somebody young enough to be my grandchild patronising.  So, Mrs Rice is was.
Being pampered by The Squire, bothered by the cat, and observed by the dog. Sofa bed is low enough he can poke me with his nose. Fortunately, he couldn’t reach my face. Took a pain pill about ten minutes ago, and it has hit bottom.
Oh, and I can’t talk. As you can imagine that is a problem. We have a dinner bell (don’t ask) and The Squire can’t hear high-pitched sounds, so if something goes wrong I’ll have hope Blazer remembers how to Go Get Poppa. He claimed he was going to watch TV, but I have the feeling he is checking his eyelids for pinholes. We got up at 5AM to be at the hospital by 6, and while I got a nap, of sorts, he’s been on his feet all day.
Speaking of the dog – normally when I come home after the shortest of trips, he is all over me. If not jumping on me, he is pawing at my legs, whompping my legs with his tail, and generally getting underfoot, but today, other than a few very thorough sniffs, he has been very gentle and “non-invasive”. How do dogs know these things? The cat, on the other hand…