Surgical strike Pt 3

Report on arthroscopy:

I rode to surgery in a C-class Benz; my driver is one of the owners of the company that manages the surgery centre (and others in the Bay Area). The place is a freaking assembly line, but I suppose that’s pretty much the case for all such organizations these days: maximize the ROI, keep the product coming through, cut and move on to the next one.

My procedure was scheduled for 0745 and I wasn’t the first on my surgeon’s list. The recovery room holds 17 beds and I imagine there are times when they’re all full.

Successive cohorts of nurses asked me the same questions about history and meds I’d been asked twice before. They had me initial both knees, just to show I was knowledgeable about what was going to happen (ordinarily they have you initial the limb in question to ward off lawsuits, but in this case it was both). AJ, MD, stopped by for 37 seconds, gowned, masked and capped for one of his other gigs, and that was the last I saw of him.

Conversation with the anesthesiologist—he’d assumed we were going general and was surprised when I said I wanted local and AJ, MD, had approved. He had to check, but we did go local with heavy sedation. So, in the end, I still didn’t know what went on in the OR.

I woke up in recovery at 0840 and within two hours I was back in the Benz on my way home. Knees bandaged, but no real pain.

The driver helped me up to my flat and I spent the next few hours reading, dozing and icing. Turns out I didn’t need the crutches—although I’m sure it made the nurses feel good that they taught me how to use them. My discharge says I can bear weight, so I’m doing it. 


Haven't really needed the Vicodin. I took one tab yesterday because, you know, I could; but nothing since.

Whatever they gave me still made me a little nauseated, but by early afternoon that was over.

I’ve spent the weekend so far in my flat, but I’m walking about pretty normally, and I reckon tomorrow it’s time to get down the stairs & see how I manage the clutch.

The nurses said they’d call to check on me today, but it’s gone 1830 and nothing. I will say that this is the first time I’ve had no follow-up (and usually it’s been from the surgeon), but I’m not surprised. I’m not a sports star and I expect they figure that if I were in trouble I’d have called.

I get the pressure bandage removed officially (I’ve already pulled it off, just to see what’s there—gauze with a splash of blood on the interior side) on Monday and my first PT session on Friday. Don't see AJ, MD, until first week in December.

Glad to get this behind me.