Oct 6th, 2022
I might just do the odd short post here and there as I recover from the bunion operation that I had a few weeks ago.
Thursday, September 15th.
I was discharged from the hospital that morning, as mentioned in my previous post. The following day, the big toe of my right foot looked bruised and felt numb. This is normal, I was told. My feet were still fully bandaged up and I was wearing the cam-shoes, which are basically a pair of velcro-fastened sandals with a very stiff sole. They're made to prevent you from exerting pressure on the balls of your feet, thus keeping the toes in one position. All weight is distributed to the heels when you walk. And I had a pair of those forearm crutches that are all the rage these days. I asked about the old wooden armpit crutches, 'cos they're a little more old-school, but was told that they don't really use those anymore.
I wore the cam-shoes all day and into the night. Two cushions positioned at the end of the mattress, the covers lifted out from underneath my side of the bed. It has made for awkward and uncomfortable nights of sleep. Despite the numbness that I felt in my right toe, I still felt this sensation of a razor blade cutting into the toe from time to time. Putting on a pair of pyjama pants could be excruciating if the cuff brushed lightly against the top of my toe. Bloody weird sensation.
I was given a prescription for a five-pack of heavy duty painkillers and was told by the hospital pharmacist to just take plain old paracetamol tablets for pain over the first three to five days and to use the prescribed painkillers for strong pain only. In the end, despite some sharp - but brief - moments of pain here and there, I didn't use the painkillers.
The paperwork that I was given upon being discharged from hospital stated that I should go see my GP five to seven days after the operation. So, I made an appointment for the following week.
Tuesday, September 20th.
Four days after the op. The pain had subsided greatly. Although, as I shifted position in bed that night, my elbow slipped off the edge of the mattress and I reflexively tensed up. And curled my toes. My feet felt like they had just caught on fire. Did I just tear the stitches? Both feet hurt a little over the next few days. I was scheduled for a follow-up appointment at the hospital on the 29th. I kept an eye on the bandages. No visible bleeding.
Meanwhile, I had the appointment with my GP the next evening. It was for after 6:00pm, so it was gonna cost me $101.oo for this consultation. He was running late with appointments. I didn't get to see him until close to 7 o'clock. I hobbled into his office and took a seat.
"Now, what can I do for you?", he asked. I showed him the hospital discharge paperwork which stated that I was to make an appointment to see him.
"The hospital didn't contact you?", I asked.
"Nope. That's slack", he responded, pointing at the paperwork in my hand. And there I sat, thinking that I was paying a hundred bucks tonight to chat with my doctor about nothing in particular. It would seem that the hospital's discharge paperwork was a generic one that they hand out to most patients.
Not to have made this visit a complete waste of time and money, he wrote me up a referral for a yearly-scheduled blood test, to be done after the first week of November, and took my blood pressure. Once this consultation was done, I headed to the reception desk and paid. Our public health insurance body, Medicare, would reimburse me $35.oo for this visit. Still, though...
I started writing a typecast, so I'll just paste it up here, shall I? Disregard the dates. That's when I wrote them, not when the events occurred.