I was out of surgery, out of recovery and back in my room by 2:30 that afternoon.Of course I don't remember getting back, this is what my wife told me later.
My daughter and my wife were there when they brought me back to my room and they both say I was not in good shape, that I was in a extreme amount of pain. "Wonder why" My daughter said it was almost more than she could bear to watch. She thought that maybe I was having a hard time accepting what happened. They said I kept asking, " What did they do to me." When I first got back to my room that afternoon my wife told me I asked her if they really cut it off. Of course my wife being one not to mince her words and to tell it like it is said,"Yes Roger,they cut it off." She said I looked over at my Daughter and asked her, " Did they cut yours off to." Instead off answering me, she ran from the room.
Laura, my daughter, she had a very hard time that day. She even admits it was probably the worst day of her life but she wanted to be there that day. I was glad she was there because I needed all the help I could get that day.
We had already talked to our grandson Koty who was ten years old at the time so he knew what was going to happen. He told me,"I'm not going to treat you any different." We made him go to school that day with the promise that he could come down later. He just wanted to make sure I was ok. Afterwards he told his grandma,"That's not my grandpa."
I guess finally I gave up and accepted where I was at and what had happened. My wife said she sat on the side of the bed with me and I sat up a little, layed my head on her shoulder, closed my eyes and let out a little sigh of relief. She said she felt the disbelief leave and the acceptance come. My daughter was watching this little moment, and saw something very sweet and tender pass between the two of us, It made her cry.
Day one of my life as an amputee, better yet day one after they cut my leg off. Sounds like I had a lot of fun.
The next day was pretty much like the first, still not in very good shape. The drugs were doing what they were supposed to, keeping me in a state of total oblivion. The only thing I remember this second day was two young girls coming into the room telling me to stand up. I didn't understand what they wanted. I said, "I can't stand up." They said they would help me. This was the last thing I wanted to do, but to get rid of them so I could go back to sleep, I was willing. I remember what it felt like when the blood rushed to the end of my stump. Do I need to say more.
Day three was the same. I was still in another world. They made me stand up. I fussed and said I wasn't going to do it, but each time they wanted me to I did.
By the end of day four I was awake. I was still in a painkiller (there's that word again) haze, but I pretty much knew what was going on around me. And I woke up hungary, starved to death. I remember thinking I'm getting better. It had been a long time since I had been really hungry, remember I had lost a hundred lbs. The bad part is I'm still hungry. On this fourth day I also seen the Doctor for about two minutes. All he asked was if that horibble pain was any better, what he meant was before the amputation. I told him, "Yes."
Day five, six and seven I spent in hospital rehab. Day eight they sent me home with a bunch of instructions and again with a lot of heavy duty painkillers.
My first week as an amputee...........
Laura, my daughter, she had a very hard time that day. She even admits it was probably the worst day of her life but she wanted to be there that day. I was glad she was there because I needed all the help I could get that day.
We had already talked to our grandson Koty who was ten years old at the time so he knew what was going to happen. He told me,"I'm not going to treat you any different." We made him go to school that day with the promise that he could come down later. He just wanted to make sure I was ok. Afterwards he told his grandma,"That's not my grandpa."
I guess finally I gave up and accepted where I was at and what had happened. My wife said she sat on the side of the bed with me and I sat up a little, layed my head on her shoulder, closed my eyes and let out a little sigh of relief. She said she felt the disbelief leave and the acceptance come. My daughter was watching this little moment, and saw something very sweet and tender pass between the two of us, It made her cry.
Day one of my life as an amputee, better yet day one after they cut my leg off. Sounds like I had a lot of fun.
The next day was pretty much like the first, still not in very good shape. The drugs were doing what they were supposed to, keeping me in a state of total oblivion. The only thing I remember this second day was two young girls coming into the room telling me to stand up. I didn't understand what they wanted. I said, "I can't stand up." They said they would help me. This was the last thing I wanted to do, but to get rid of them so I could go back to sleep, I was willing. I remember what it felt like when the blood rushed to the end of my stump. Do I need to say more.
Day three was the same. I was still in another world. They made me stand up. I fussed and said I wasn't going to do it, but each time they wanted me to I did.
By the end of day four I was awake. I was still in a painkiller (there's that word again) haze, but I pretty much knew what was going on around me. And I woke up hungary, starved to death. I remember thinking I'm getting better. It had been a long time since I had been really hungry, remember I had lost a hundred lbs. The bad part is I'm still hungry. On this fourth day I also seen the Doctor for about two minutes. All he asked was if that horibble pain was any better, what he meant was before the amputation. I told him, "Yes."
Day five, six and seven I spent in hospital rehab. Day eight they sent me home with a bunch of instructions and again with a lot of heavy duty painkillers.
My first week as an amputee...........
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