The One Handed Girl 1


my post-surgery handWell, I’m not really one-handed. I just can’t do much with my left hand right now.

Obviously, I survived the trigger thumb release surgery. Some people are rejoicing at this news, while others are probably booing. Some may have even lost money in some sort of pool that would probably get them imprisoned in the state of Alabama. Some of these would be the same people imprisoned for buying/selling sex toys within state limits, having an ice cream cone in their back pocket, or committing some nefarious deeds.

Instead of being awake during the surgery, the anesthesiologist decided that because of my history of seizures and of paradoxical reactions that I would be given a sedative. He said it might not knock me out (it did), but that it would pretty much keep me from being all Janet-go-bonkers from the meds. Since he decided against a general, which was the other option he was considering due to the seizures, he was also lowering the risk that I would do the other typical anesthesia things I do–have my blood pressure drop or quick remembering how to breathe. His plan worked, so now you may all rejoice, boo, or ante up. Also, and completely un-related, this anesthesiologist was kinda hot.1

I didn’t have to wait long in the waiting room, but I was in pre-op for an extremely long time. I got to the Surgery Center at 9:50. I got back to pre-op by 10:15. My surgery was scheduled to start at 11, but didn’t actually start until about 1. I got to hear a lot of people go to surgery. I even got to hear one dude who was told he couldn’t have the surgery there because his blood pressure was 200+/100+. He was extremely pissed, but I think he should probably be grateful. I know he was in pain and felt like being there was a waste of time, but it’s better that it is a waste of time that doesn’t end with him having a stroke on the table and possibly dead than, well, those two things happening. At least if he has it at the hospital after his blood pressure has stabilized a bit more, then he won’t be as likely to have some really serious stuff happen.

I had to convince several people that I didn’t want Lortab or any narcotic pain relief to take home. I have a bad reaction to Lortab and to morphine derivatives. I didn’t want to endure that reaction, so I asked for Tramadol because I knew that the worst thing that happens from it is that I get all hyperactive and can’t sleep. The staff seemed to be completely unnerved by my desire to have that drug instead of something “stronger”, but I stuck to my request because I know what my body and my brain can take.

As I posted on Twitter last night, I had to take a pregnancy test before anything happened.

Guess what?

I’m not pregnant.

Eventually someone needs to have “the talk” with the doctors. To have offspring tucked up in there, I would need to get something else up in there and since that didn’t happen…no baby. Really simple stuff. You’d think they’d understand it.2 Anyway, I thought you guys might want to know that breaking piece of intel.3 Heh.

Also, the nurse who started my IV, drumroll please, GOT. IT. ON. THE. FIRST. STICK. Can I get a hallelujah? I told her how rare this was. She didn’t seem to think it should have been. Well, either she’s really good or got really lucky…probably both. There’s no guarantee that she would hit a vein again.

I got asked a few times if I was sure that I had hypoglycemia issues without having the big bad: diabetes. They decided to do a blood sugar test and guess what my sugar was? 82. Eighty two. Yep, fasting blood sugar was 82. Perfectly normal. After surgery (and after I’d had fluids & started eating some graham crackers), it was at 87 or 89. Perfectly normal.4 Yay. Another group of health care professionals who couldn’t make me have diabetes. I rather enjoy when that happens.

My weight was up by about 3-4 pounds since the last time it was checked, which was one of the trips to the hematologist. I figure that it should be up by about that much because, based on the last two times, it *should* be about time for the lovely underwear destroying, hormone obliterating visitor to come around. So, my weight going up could be related to that. Also 3-4 pound shifts aren’t that big of a deal for me. They happen.

What else? Oh, yeah. The surgery went fine. It lasted about 30 minutes and recovery was about a 15 minute deal, which made the whole waiting process all the suckier.5 I also saw a girl that I went to high school with, who also is friends with me on Facebook & follows me on Twitter. She works as a nurse in recovery there. She checked on me and she told me that she loves seeing the pictures of Amy that I post, which made me smile.

One of the worst things that I found out is that I can’t take a shower until Thursday which is driving me crazy. I hate going more than 24 hours without one. I have a feeling that I will be clawing my skin off in the next 12-18 hours–even if I’m asleep. This will be one of those times that tests my inner crazy.

And one last thing: my thumb is still numb. Like almost completely, which is probably a good thing because I bet it would hurt like hell6 if it didn’t.


  1. The one one that went back with me was a different person. She was also a she instead of a he. She was pretty, but not really hot. I liked her voice a little better than his, though. 

  2. I know some people lie about their sex life, but, sadly, I am not one of them. 

  3. Chrome doesn’t get that intel is a legit word. They totally need to read some spy novels over there at Google. 

  4. The hypoglycemia isn’t a constant thing. Normally, my sugar is normal, but it has a tendency to not go up significantly after food and can get really low really fast/for no reason. 

  5. Someone needs to tell Google that suckier is a legit word. Just ’cause it’s a colloquialism doesn’t make it a non-word. 

  6. or spirit prison 


About Janet Morris

I'm from Huntsville, Alabama. I've got as many college credits as a doctorate candidate, and the GPA of some of them, too. I have a boss by the name of Amy Pond. She's a dachshund. My parents both grew up in Alabama.


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