It would be less expensive to fix your ailing body by just putting a few pieces of duct tape on it–it would be the equivalent of a band-aid, but just more permanent.
I tell this to my husband frequently because I truly believe he has an addiction to surgeries.
A Serial Surgery Addict. Do shrinks have a good remedy for guys like this? I think at least once, or maybe even twice a year, we go to the hospital to get a “procedure” done. The hospital staff knows us by name. We have a wing named after us because we put so much money into the damn place.
An Army Colonel with thirty-two years of service has resulted in at least twenty (that he can remember) surgeries. One of them was not an addadictomy either.
Okay, that was a bad joke.
The latest addiction caused me to write about his surgical visits since you can’t make this shit up. I asked him to list what kinds of surgeries he’s had since I met him at the midway point of his surgical celebrity.
His first was an appendectomy. Eh. Kid stuff. Pffffft.
The second was a septoplasty surgery due to him crushing his nose in during a parachute jump. In the midst of jumping out of the plane, the damn plane got in the way of his face. Can you believe that? The nerve of some planes. They have absolutely no respect for our military personnel. The landing wasn’t good because he was unconscious. So, I would suppose the word, “landing” is inappropriate. How about ramming, torpedoing, or crashing into the earth grab you?
Those are better words.
And, because of the ignorant airplane, he also had to have a sinus/eye orbit rebuild; whatever the fuck that is.
He’s had three left knee arthroscopes, two right knee arthroscopes, one right knee cartilage transplant, one right knee partial knee replacement, and one right knee full knee replacement.
His right knee is what I fondly call his Frankenstein Bulbous Knee. Notice Exhibit A to your left. This is a picture of his full knee replacement surgery. That Frankenstein scar is still there, but his knee is fucking fantastic!
We purposely moved at a glacial pace with the right knee because the rehabilitation time for a complete knee replacement is arduous. It took him about one year to feel normal. He can’t run on it, but he can walk. A possible jog is doable if he’s being chased, but he’ll always be caught.
This is where his cat-like ninja reflexes will have to take over and kill the bastard or animal chasing him.
Both elbows had to have ulnar nerve transpositions otherwise he would be walking around with dead nerves right now, which I suppose wouldn’t bode well for me since I like to hold my husband’s hands. If he didn’t have these surgeries done, he would have to pat me on the back by doing a full swinging motion with his body and hope one of his arms lands on my back.
He would look like a human propeller. He would look like a discus thrower but without holding the discus because, well, he wouldn’t be able to hold it.
If he missed my back, I would have no idea how it would end up, or how he would end up landing.
Again, with the landing.
Jesus, I’m getting exhausted here…
He’s had two left shoulder arthroscopes, one left shoulder capsular shift and rebuild as well as four right shoulder arthroscopes. In other words, his left shoulder feels great. His right shoulder needs a rebuild, but we need to put some duct tape on a few other places first.
Oh, he’s also had one abdominal muscle wall tear repair, which, I would imagine is from too much yelling as a Brigade Commander. Either that, or he had a really bad cough.
Our current addiction is with his spine. That’s that bony thing that runs along the entire length of your back so you can stand up.
Now that we got that straight. Or not.
The pain–he thought–was coming from his right shoulder. However, an MRI (and aren’t we all familiar with those lovely scans?) showed something different.
By the way, I really would like to turn one of our rooms into an MRI facility so we can save ourselves a trip. My dreams of my own art studio are dashed, but I will unselfishly relinquish my studio to put an MRI unit in our home.
Do I need a permit for that? I better check our circuit breakers….
In looking at his neck, the spine appears to be, well, fucked up.
No. It is really fucked up.
There are two or three discs which are being squeezed by nerves, and there is also no bone where bone should be in another part of his neck/back, so I would suppose this is where most of the pain is coming from.
His left arm is pretty much numb, and although I would like to use it as a paperweight, I fear repercussions. We just finished his first steroid shot and it didn’t work.
All the doctors knew this would happen just by glancing at the MRI results. All of them had the same look on their faces, which was sort of like when Will Smith first saw the alien ship in the sky from, Independence Day. It was one of those, What the fuck? looks. Four doctors all looked at the MRI that way. All four doctors said that surgery was probably imminent.
Cervical Spinal Stenosis. That’s the latest addiction.
I don’t know. I’m not a doctor, but I read WebMD, and I’m certain–after looking at some issues I had that I’m definitely going to die of cancer–that the neck holds all the nerves that go from the very top of your head to the very bottom of your feet.
I swear to God if this surgeon has the onset of Parkinson’s I’m going to kill him.
We see the surgeon on Friday for the first time, and I’ll be putting him through a written, as well as physical exam. I want steady. I want unfaltering. If I were to surprise him, I would expect he would be unshakable.
I want to see him do spinal surgery while on a damn balance beam while being blind folded with one arm behind his back.
I will evaluate his penmanship for any shaking, and will see if he has a coffee addiction.
Duct tape would have been good for some situations since my husband doesn’t like hospitals. He’s even walked out a few hours after surgery; ripped his IV out and just left.
After two days of having one shoulder surgery, he entered a push up competition and ruptured his sutures.
I think he fixed that with duct tape.
He won that competition, by the way.