Back surgery hiatus

My husband had to get a discectomy on his L5/S1. Honestly, we didn't think he was going to get it in time, before his FMLA ran out. His company is fantastic, he's been on full pay this whole time, but the insurance company and our family Doctor really made a putz of the whole situation for the first 6 weeks or 7 weeks. Yay, America. Times like this I really miss living in the UK and I know he doesn't regret the decision to come back stateside, but I do. Him being British and me being a Yank, you'd think he would be the one missing England and the easy access to Europe. The access to healthcare and education. He prefers the congeniality of the people and the safety of America, it is a trade off and he has more faith in my country than I've had these last 10 years. While it's true, I'd never dream of sleeping with my doors and windows unlocked in England, I do have to worry about an accident or illness ruining our entire financial existences.

Anyway, about my running. I skipped my off day and decided to do a night run the night before my husband's surgery. We didn't have time to prepare for anything because he went in Wednesday and was in surgery Friday. Thursday was hellish. I only barely managed to squeeze in a run and my streets are so poorly lit, the sidewalks are lumpy, where there are sidewalks and about a half mile down the road is a not so great neighborhood. A half mile the other way is gated communities, Mercedes and BMW's, security guards, the whole she-bang. Thing is... I didn't realize the neighborhood gets not so great the other way.

I strapped my little lighted bracelet on, decided against my normal tuneage because this was around 11PM, and given the lack of street lights and the fact my dog is an unfortunate shade of black, I needed to be aware of cars, especially for her sake. I now know that I need more than the five minute brisk walk warm up, so I headed out, and about 10 minutes in, turned my workout on without music. Things were going well. I hadn't even worked up a sweat yet and a group of teenagers started following me. I'm still on week one. It was my last workout of week one and up to this point, for the past 5 years or so, I've been pretty sedentary. When I say I'm out of shape. I mean it. So I take a turn. The kids are getting a little closer and I'm listening. I'm on a walk interval. They take the turn. Gizmo, usually a laid back lady, began wumping. She's a talker, and the tone of her voice was worried. The boys were getting louder, closer and the hair on the back of my neck was standing up. I don't bring my taser running. My inhaler and phone is enough of a pain in the ass.

"Wump, wump, wuuummmmp."
"Shhh... s'ok, we have a run coming up. They won't follow us."
"Haaaarrrrruuummmp."
"Begin Jog."

So we did. It wasn't a scared, or desperate run. My phone was on speaker because I didn't want headphone impairing my hearing. So they may have heard it. I didn't want to appear nervous or worried about them in the least. I didn't want to give them what they wanted. I jogged lightly, Moe keeping pace, but still wumping in protest. I headed straight back home. I rounded another corner to put me on a straight shot to my road and I was so mad. If I didn't have Gizmo with me, I'd have turned around and confronted those kids. What kind of assholes get their jollies off on tormenting people? Fuck sake. Anyway, I ended my run 15 minutes into the program and it hurt. I hadn't even gotten warmed up completely. I didn't even get a sweat going and my legs KILLED. I knew that they wouldn't hurt if I could have just finished the run. So I came home, angry and fuming and poor Giz sensed it.

Anyway, the next morning, Sean got his back surgery. He's been in agony for months and months. They brought the versed in and I got to push it. The perks of being in the medical field! He was so high, I think the nurses took extra care to get him going just to hear him say goofy stuff with his accent. Seriously, I love Midazolam. I loved it when I was going in for my surgerys and I loved watching my husband get messed up on it before his. He did so much better coming out of anesthesia this time having had it before hand too. It could be too that the intense pain he'd lived with for so long was literally just gone after his surgery, but he didn't cry for no reason. He's a post-op crier, not so much with versed. He was like a new person without all that pain.

As you can imagine, I was on my feet or driving all day. I had to take my husband to the hospital, then take my son down 40 minutes South to my Dad. Then bust ass back up to see my hubs get high and sent off to the neuro-choppa and then I had to get our hospital room ready for him. We've spent a lot of time in hospitals, so we're pretty good at setting things up like home. Then I had to run out and meet the surgeon. After that, I paced around the room, learned paper quilling (I'm a compulsive crafter) and abused the hell out of the Keurig set up right outside our room.

Once the Hubs was wheeled in, I was go-go-go again. He was on a drip, so he had to pee a lot. I don't like bothering the nurses, so, if they let me, I take over I&O. These nurses were super sweet and while they tried to make me sit my ass down, they knew they don't sit down in hospitals and there was no hope of me doing it either. He was peeing a lot, so I was up and down constantly, plus he wanted tea and water. Then I had to go let the dogs out. Later in the evening, I went to pick up dinner, got his some breezer cough drops for his intubation irritation, let the dogs out and got them bedded for the night and then headed back to the hospital for a shower.

That's when I noticed it. My feet were sore, which I expected, but they were swollen. I had edema in my lower legs, edema with slight pitting. I've NEVER had my feet or legs swell up. My skin was tight and it hurt to move my ankles. The pitting was what worried me. My sodium intake isn't high. I'm a vegetarian and I drink pretty much nothing but water. I can't drink carbonated anything because I'm on Topamax. Even when I was pregnant, I never had swollen ankles. The only thing different in my life right now is running. Even though I'm fat, my legs, especially my lower legs, have always been pretty muscular.

I didn't mention it because my the time I finished my shower, the hubs had gone from walking laps straight out of recovery to extremely nauseated, sweaty and in a lot of pain. It's expected though, the swelling from the surgery sets in and the drugs wear off. They tried Zofran, which didn't help, so they hit him with Phenergan and Dilaudid. He finally fell asleep around 3:30AM and I cautiously laid down. No sooner did the nurses clear out and I doze off, did I hear, "Babe? I have to pee." Le sigh. Thankfully the heavy painkillers were still fresh in his system and after peeing, I propped my feet up and we both slept.

The edema was much worse the next morning. I don't know if it's because I started and then prematurely stopped that run, which hurt so bad, or if it's just normal. I don't know if it's because I've gone from sedentary to working out or what it was, but the edema didn't go down until late Sunday. It hurt. I've had to keep walking because it's crucial to his recovery, but I haven't been able to run because he's a fall risk and isn't to be left alone. He feels great now, other than tenderness at the op site and in the suture line, but I still can't leave him alone until he's cleared. Just in case. We've been walking like crazy, so that's good... but he can't run. He wants to do Tough Mudder with me next year though, so hell yeah.