Tilted Forum Project Discussion Community - View Single Post

Mortons · 07-24-2008, 01:19 PM

I had this lovely procedure done for Mother's Day, 2003.

The day of my surgery, I went to the phamacy and got the valium. The pahmacist warned me not to take it if I was driving. I assure them I wasn't going to drive.

I took the valium, not knowing what the effect would be on me. Needless to say, it hit me pretty quick. 5 minutes later, I was singing the theme song to Gilligan's Island with my 3 kids and wife in the car. I thought I was perfectly fine, but my wife said I was wobbly in the car.

The procedure happened and I was in a giddy mood (thanks Valium). My Dr. put on some rastafarian music and was bebopping around with his head. The nurse was telling jokes about why we had to invade Iraq (she called it Iraq-tile dysfunction). And I belly laughed for 10 minutes. Of course, this was while he was trying to retrieve the vas defrens, it kept slipping out of his fingers. The rest of the procedure went according to plan and I was set free 15 minutes later. Got my pain pills from the pharmacy at the clinic I was at and went home. 18 hours, I was back at work, little pain.

Here's where my problems started.... I should have listened to the Dr. advice on no physical activity for 6 weeks after the surgery. I was relatively new to Martial Arts and I missed the workouts with my son (4 at the time). So, I took him and worked out. Well, earlier in the day, I was coughing and sneezy from an allergy and I 'felt' something down under. Then I was kicking and run and jumping at Taekwondo. 1 hour after returning home, I was prostrate on the floor, unable to move. I though I pulled a hernia, but the pain was coming on so fast.

My wife arrived home and took me to the hospital emergency room. By this time, my lower region was the size of a cantelope. I felt like my wife during labor, it was open door day at the hospital and everyone from the janitor to hospital director must have walked through my room to see the sights. My wife, was amazed at the swelling, went with me to the ultrasound room and was helping another woman scan my gonads, poking and pressing. They would push and move and them point at the screen. To them, it was all academic, to me, the morphine shot provided no relief.

I spent the next 3 days on morphine at the hospital, unable to walk. The morphine really didn't kill off the pain down there, but it did help chill out the rest of my body. Soon, they took away my morphine and started with demerol shots, which didn't really help much either.

Then, finally, they called in the damn witch doctor (he's a "pain management specialist"). And this guy managed to produce significant pain in my body through his attempts to block the nerves that run over the hipbones to your groin. He poked around for 45 minutes trying to make the pain stop, only inducing more. His therapy brought no relief (and he charged me some $1400 for his services).

Now, 5 years later, I can look back and laugh. Initially, I was nearly pain free, but I'll be damned if that infection didn't produce multiple gallons of tears.

07-24-2008, 01:19 PM	#19 (permalink)
Mortons Upright	I had this lovely procedure done for Mother's Day, 2003. The day of my surgery, I went to the phamacy and got the valium. The pahmacist warned me not to take it if I was driving. I assure them I wasn't going to drive. I took the valium, not knowing what the effect would be on me. Needless to say, it hit me pretty quick. 5 minutes later, I was singing the theme song to Gilligan's Island with my 3 kids and wife in the car. I thought I was perfectly fine, but my wife said I was wobbly in the car. The procedure happened and I was in a giddy mood (thanks Valium). My Dr. put on some rastafarian music and was bebopping around with his head. The nurse was telling jokes about why we had to invade Iraq (she called it Iraq-tile dysfunction). And I belly laughed for 10 minutes. Of course, this was while he was trying to retrieve the vas defrens, it kept slipping out of his fingers. The rest of the procedure went according to plan and I was set free 15 minutes later. Got my pain pills from the pharmacy at the clinic I was at and went home. 18 hours, I was back at work, little pain. Here's where my problems started.... I should have listened to the Dr. advice on no physical activity for 6 weeks after the surgery. I was relatively new to Martial Arts and I missed the workouts with my son (4 at the time). So, I took him and worked out. Well, earlier in the day, I was coughing and sneezy from an allergy and I 'felt' something down under. Then I was kicking and run and jumping at Taekwondo. 1 hour after returning home, I was prostrate on the floor, unable to move. I though I pulled a hernia, but the pain was coming on so fast. My wife arrived home and took me to the hospital emergency room. By this time, my lower region was the size of a cantelope. I felt like my wife during labor, it was open door day at the hospital and everyone from the janitor to hospital director must have walked through my room to see the sights. My wife, was amazed at the swelling, went with me to the ultrasound room and was helping another woman scan my gonads, poking and pressing. They would push and move and them point at the screen. To them, it was all academic, to me, the morphine shot provided no relief. I spent the next 3 days on morphine at the hospital, unable to walk. The morphine really didn't kill off the pain down there, but it did help chill out the rest of my body. Soon, they took away my morphine and started with demerol shots, which didn't really help much either. Then, finally, they called in the damn witch doctor (he's a "pain management specialist"). And this guy managed to produce significant pain in my body through his attempts to block the nerves that run over the hipbones to your groin. He poked around for 45 minutes trying to make the pain stop, only inducing more. His therapy brought no relief (and he charged me some $1400 for his services). Now, 5 years later, I can look back and laugh. Initially, I was nearly pain free, but I'll be damned if that infection didn't produce multiple gallons of tears.