LacHo D

Interests could be defined as what you spend most of your free time doing... so using this definition you could say one of my key interests is having surgery.

I probably won't be around heaps over the next couple weeks, cos I'm having a shoulder reconstrustion. So that I don't have to repeat the same story over and over I thought I'd write it all up here so you can read if you want to, and if you don't, thats cool as well. If you read it, leave a comment so the next time I see you i don't waste your time telling the same story.

So it all started round 2 last winter season playing basketball. We were 2 points down, 1 minute left on the clock. They had a fast break, but I ran back and got in front of the guy, he saw me and slowed up, looking as though he was about to take a shot. So I jumped, and it was probably the best jump of my life. My feet were at least a metre off the ground. This was about to be the defining and most glorious moment of my sporting career. All I had to do was get the swat, (which was just a formality this high off the ground), use the deflection to create another fast break on the rebound, lay it up to tie the game (although if I jumped that high again it would be a certain dunk). Then I'd probably be fouled on the shot, sink the free throw, and win the game, siren sounds and I'll be a champion... didn't quite work that way.

What actually happened was the guy pulled out of the shot, drove underneath me, took my legs out, I flipped over his shoulder and landed on mine. Ligaments stretched, tissue stretched, lots of pain... because I fell forward, the foul was called on me, the dude got 2 shots, sunk them, they were 4 point up, siren sounded and I was definately not as awesome as I'd originally hoped.

It seemed like things were all healing nicely until later that year I was chilling with the boys watching one of the greatest movies of all time "Happy Gillmore". I'm sitting in a bean bag in what was not the best posture, with my arm kinda wedged in. We got to the point in the movie when the hired sledger guy runs Happy over with a voltzwagon and Happy dislocated his shoulder. As I laugh at it, I lead forward, but my arm somehow stayed back and I dislocated my shoulder. Hilarious time had by all.

It hadn't given me too much more problems until summer this year. I was down at the cricket nets with my friend and his bro. We were playin a bit of cricket and reminicing about our adventures with Hamish and Andy (see blogs). I was batting, and my frined bowled a shocker. I advanced down the pitch ready to slog him for six, but as I go to play the shot the shoulder drops out again. I dropthe bat and grab my shoulder trying to contain the pain when my friend runs up and stumps me and I'm out cos i was out of my crease.

Apart from being a bit annoying, a bit painful and causing people to laugh at me, I wasn't heaps concerned, until one night I was driving home and as I pulled into the driveway it dropped out again. Its a miracle I made it up the driveway without hitting anything, but that kinda freaked me out. Turning into the driveway is the same action as turning onto a main road, and that coulda ended ugly. So I thought I should get it checked out.

Numerous doctor visits, physio appoinments, x-rays, ultrasounds (that was wierd, kinda cool though, the blue gel is kinda like toothpaste), eventually I see a specialist and he sends me off to have a MRI.

Since tissue is a lot less dence than bone, for the docs to see botht he tissue and the bone in the same x-ray, they needed to inject dye into the joint. I'm really not a fan of needles, and keeping that in mind, the dye injection method was nasty. There was a few injections of local anesetic (which although required injection, I was greatful, cos they then used X-rays to guide a giant needle in, then they left it sitting there while they dripped the dye into the joint. This took ages, and I was stuck there lying on a table in a dress with a giant x-ray machine hovering above my head with a giant syringe sitting there a few centimetres away from my face. The dresses at the x-ray place were a lot thinner and dodgier than usual hospital dresses. And they only tied at the neck, where usually there's ties at the neck and waist. Usually when I know i have to wear one of those things I wear my best simpsons boxer shorts (just so I look good in front of the nurses), but I didn't think when I got dressed that morning and put on these old dodgey blue jocks. So I'm wandering around the hospital in this wrag of a dress with my bright blue bum sticking out behind for all to see. Not a strong moment.

The actual MRI was a pretty wierd experience as well. You slide completely into this costrophobic tube and you have to not move for the duration of it, which is roughly 20 mins. the tube is heaps small, the height is lower than my shoulder span, so if thing went bad I couldn't turn around and try and crawl out, I'd have to wiggle out on my back somehow. So you lie on the table and a team of people basically stuff foam where ever there is a gap. Then they grab these big leather straps and tie you down to the table. You feel kinda like an electrical applience being packaged. They give you headphones with music playing to distract from the noise... not heaps effective though. The machince is so loud and annoying. Mum said that she could feel the floor vibrating sitting in the waiting room. From my point of view it was massive rumbling slightly changing pattern every minute or so. Kinda like liktening to 20 consecutive over amplified and underskilled beep-boxers. Then they took me out, rearranged the foam so I was in a different position, then put me back in for another 5 mins. Such a humiliating x-ray!

The next day we see the specialist and he says I need a shoulder reconstruction. The MRI showed the capsule was too large, making it easy for my shoulder to dislocate, and every time it does the capsule will expand more, which I guess could ultimately result in it being so large that the tissue cant support the wieght of my arm and I have to walk around with it dangling on the ground. A few interesting stats... done as open incision there is a 1/6 failure rate ie the surgery has no effect. (Key hole its a 50% failure rate!) There is a 1/500 chance of clotting, and a 1/1000 chance of not waking up (which I assume is a coma or death or something like that). So tues 20th Nov they slice and dice, grab the tissue surrounding the joint, pull tight, sow, and stitch up the wound. 3 or 4 days in hospital, 6 weeks in a sling, then a crapload of rehab. The plan is by the end of Feb I'll be strong enough to hold my backpack so I can go back to uni.

Thats the end of the shoulder story, but thats just one episode of the saga. Feel free to continue to read and join me on the rest of my surgical journey.

As I walk out of the surgeon's office, I shake his hand, and he looks at my left hand and says "how long's the finger been like that?"... flashback time! So I'm playing basketball earlier this season. We were up, but had just surrendered a good lead and were looking like losing the game. There was a lose ball between a couple of the opposition players. They were bigger than me, but I thought I was faster, so I break through the pack and make this awesome steal, but in the process my left pinky got caught in one of the dude's singlets and dislocated. We scored from that steal and got our momentum back, so I'm taking credit for that win, but after a few days the swelling hadn't gone down. I'd seen doctors, had x-rays etc, and everything seemed fine, except the joint was weak and still twice as round as it should have been... bit of a mystery... fast forward back to shoulder surgeon... he says there is ligament damage (and ligaments have a different density, which is why it wasn't seen on the x-rays). He tells me to go back to the doctors and get a referal to see a hand specialist. I go to the doctor, and he says there is nothing wrong. He calls the shoulder surgoen, and eventually gives the consult paperwork up, but doesn't think I need it. I see the hand surgeon and he instantaneously says, yep, snapped ligament, that'll need to be operated on otherwise you'll eventually lose the finger. (eventually turned out that the ligament wasn't snapped, but I went a step further and actually tore it off the bone!)

This surgery had to be done pretty quick otherwise the two ends of the ligament will heal but not to each other, which would screw things up permently, so during the last couple weeks of the uni semester I went in for the surgery. The waiting room was pretty full though, so I was unfortunate enough to have to sit through an entire ep of the Ellen Degenerous show. Crazy show. It starts off with a few jokes, kinda like a middle ages woman's equivalent to Rove, but then she says "I think we all know what time it is." I thought "I have no idea what time it is." Then music starts playng and she randomly runs around the studio dancing... very odd show, but lets get back to the story.

So I'm lying there on the operating table (in my simpson's boxer shorts), they inject me with anesetic, I fall asleep, all is going swimmingly (and yes, I did just use the word 'swimmingly', its a great word, definately underused in today's society), but then I slowly open my eyes and I realise that I'm in the same room I fell asleep in! Overcome by fear, I turn my head to my left and I see my finger split wide open, metal things poking in and sticking out, blood all around the place, and the surgeon wearing his mask and doing his thing. I was a little concerned about this, cos if I can move my head I could probably move my finger, which isn't cool when someone's poling around in there. So I stare at the ceiling, trying not to move (kinda like the MRI all over again), when the anethitest leans over me and says "hang in there mate, its all goin well". I think to myself "ok, he realises I'm awake, and he doesn't seem to concerned about it, maybe there is nothing to worry about." But then in the background I hear someone say "woops!".

I think I passed out again, cos the next think I remember is the doc says he's done and they wheel me into recovery. The nurse there looks at me and says "Hey, you kinda look like that guy from Lord of the Rings... Elija Wood." I'm thinking that this is a bit odd, but then she says "At least I didn't say you look like Gandorf" and then she walks off to do her paperwork or something... very odd!

So I was in a slign for a couple weeks, in the splint for a couple more, now the fingers good, I go about 1/3 movement back, but I won't get full movement for about 6 more weeks. Scar isn't too ugly. The annoying thing is cos I was in a sling I couldn't do my physio to prepare the shoulder for surgery, so rehab is onna be a turdburger. Between the finger and the shoulder surgeries I've had exams, finished that today, so assuming all goes well I'm officially halfway to becoming an aerospace engineer, which is kinda cool.

Thanks for reading so far. Sorry about all the spelling errors. This year I've also had my wisdom teeth out and an endoscopy, if you want to read those stories let me know and I'll type them up (I've got 4 more days that I'm able to type before my surgery). Also, leave a comment if you think I actually do look like Froddo. I don't see it, but obviously the nurse did. Also, if you're bored over summer, give me a call. I'm unable to work or drive, so I'll just be chilling watching cricket or DVD's, and I'm always keen for company. Until then, have a good one.