The surgeon asked if I wanted a small procedure or to go for it, giving him leeway to improvise along the way. I wanted him to do as much as he could in one go. He started out fixing the rather urgent problem in the right leg, then took some more time to go look at the left leg.
I could tell it worked right away, but from the looks of the incision I knew I’d have a long recovery. Everyone that looked at me was happy with things, and it was an easy couple of days napping and being bored watching awful TV. I was pleased I wasn’t given a bunch of drugs; apparently my history of objecting to taking stuff no one could explain to me was noted. I refused a weak dose of Tylenol, but was talked into a half-pill of oxy-something.
The left leg has the same problem and will need the same operation in about 6 months, which matches my travel plans.
One of my complaints about doing all this was the transportation time required to get back and forth to Seattle because the peninsula doesn’t have any of high-powered physicians and facilities needed. I had a nurse-in-charge who lived in Port Angeles on her days off and she came up with an idea that could help Rachel get me back home in a reasonable amount of time. There’s a form that allows medical patients to cut in front of the lines for the ferry. She got the three or four signatures required and we ended up using it to bypass what was likely a 2-hour wait to get on the ferry. I had always theorized that the quickest one could get from Seattle to Chimacum was two hours under ideal conditions, but four hours should be anticipated. The trip home on a busy weekend was less than 2 hours, maybe even 1.5. Amazing.
Now I’ve got 2 weeks of recovery…