Day 1

Success and optimism turned to disaster early this morning. I got up at 1:30 am to go to the bathroom and the pain pump fell to the floor, shearing off the tiny plastic connector to the tubing that was attached to my knee. I frantically tried to reconnect it but it was clearly broken beyond simple repair. I huffed and swore and growled my seething disappointment. I was filled with panic. I called the doctor out of desperation and spoke with the on-call assistant surgeon. She talked me through the fear and reminded me that plenty of people have survived this surgery without the aid of the pain pump. True enough and after a bit I managed to put the event just far enough behind me to be able to get back to sleep.

It seems, however, that my mind was still busy processing the incident while I slept because at 3 am I awoke to the realization that I had now likely contaminated a previously sterile line of fluid that ran directly into my knee. I tied a knot in the plastic line where it entered the dressing and spent the rest of the night worrying about what may have happened and what we would likely have to do about it.

Back at the doctor’s office this morning, everyone was in clear agreement – the pain pump line would have to come out immediately, and I would go on a preventative course of antibiotics to combat any potential infection. The $475 investment that was certain to make the next few days tolerable was now nothing more than a paper weight aimlessly oozing priceless pain killer.

The nurse changed my dressings and after revealing the surface of the knee she calmly suggested that I lay back and take some deep breaths. Apparently my face had turned a nice shade of white at the sight of my badly violated knee and soon there were additional people in the exam room giving me water and placing cold, wet towels on my forehead. My wife was instructed to hold my left leg up above my heart to help redirect some blood back up to my face. I was beginning to fall apart just a bit.

With the new dressings applied I crutched my way down the hall for some follow up x-rays and then underwent some mild PT, including massage, passive motion, and riding a stationary bike using only my good leg. By the time I returned home I had definitely begun to miss the effects of the pain pump and as of now, 8:30 pm, the pain is beginning to show its full potential. It is now a significant struggle to get off the bed to get to the bathroom. The pain causes me to shake and chatter my teeth and moderately hyperventilate. I have gotten very serious about creating and maintaining a strict schedule of medication but it is clearly not going to be enough to control the pain to the degree that I would prefer. For the record, here is my med list:
· Aspirin (81mg) – 1 / day, blood clot prevention
· Percocet (7.5mg) – every 6 hours, pain reducer
· Toradol (30mg) – every 6 hours, anti-inflammatory and pain reducer
· Cephalexin (Keflex, 500mg) – every 6 hours for 3 days, antibiotic
· Pepcid Complete (1 tablet) – every 12 hours, antacid
· Triflex (500 mg Glucosamine) – 3 / day, joint lubricant
· Ambien – 1 / day, sleep aid

I am running the ice machine for 20 minutes every 2 hours as directed and doing quad sets and ankle movements including writing the alphabet in the air with my big toe. I have aligned all meds onto 8-2-8-2 schedules and have set an alarm to cover the 2 am requirement.

If the pain continues to get worse tomorrow I will certainly have trouble getting out of the house for my PT appointment. I had heard plenty of stories about the depth of discomfort during the first few days of post-op recovery and now that I am stuck in the middle of it, I can confirm that the accounts are every bit as true as stated. It is quite difficult. More tomorrow…