OK, First off I am very well aware that this is primarily a motorcyclists forum, and not an internet edition of the Lancet. I have only posted this as mention of this subject in another thread has sparked an interest in those amongst us that are experiencing similar problems to myself.
If you have little or no interest in things medical, and feel they should not be on this forum, then simply move on to the next motorcycle orientated subject.
So firstly a little of my history, from a fairly early age, as soon as I could run really, I enthusiastically set about trying to destroy my lower limb function as quickly as possible, and continued to do so for the next forty years, running falls with bruised and cut knees cycle crashes, motorcycle crashes, football, squash and half marathon running, oh yes, nearly forgot, also endlessly kicking over a Vincent motorcycle that invariably was reluctant to start.
I did a pretty good job if I say so myself, by the age of 40 I had already had 5 knee operations split between both knees, in the main, ligament and meniscus repair/trim or removal. I was starting to feel the effects of this so I curtailed all those stupid activities, and limited myself to motorcycling and walking in the countryside or coast paths, and I was very happy to do this, but these conditions are not static, they progress and accelerate at finally quite an alarming rate.
I stoically battled on with the help of knee supports with increasing levels of sophistication, hinged bits of metal etc. And also with the help of Mr Paracetamol and Mr Ibuprofen, getting the bike in and out of the van, with ramps and electric winch was getting a bit scary, especially one day when the ramp was damp, and the bike slid all the way down the ramp with the front brake locked solid, Luckily I got away with that, in those few seconds I was praying my knees would not buckle.
The end game is very near when you are woken in the middle of the night with knee pain, also after a day 3-4 hour drive you have to brace yourself to get out of the cab seat and attempt to walk, so it becomes time to do something about it. On recommendation and research I went to see the best knee specialist that I could find local to me.
David Houlihan-Burne, he took one superficial look and told me they were both shot, no doubt, but did request X-rays just to confirm, they were shot, mostly bone touching bone, the next step was CAT scans to get the replacement knee implants sized and selected.
David uses the latest state of the art robot assisted surgery by MACO to ensure accuracy, gone are the days of a one size fits all, and the surgeon does his bit by eye, knowledge and experience, and if you are really lucky on the day, close to 3 degrees of accuracy, but probably nearer 6 degrees, David and MAKO expects 1/2 degree.
So the big day arrives, fasting from the evening of the day before, only clear fluids up to 6am on the day. Arrive in theatre for epidural and sedation, but not general anaesthetic, get to see my new knee implants on a large screen all in nice colours and shiny metal, then just drift off for a nice relaxing sleep.
Come round in the recovery room with a guy next to me literally screaming in agony, unless he was Screaming Lord Sutch, but the guy was to young, and I think the Lord has passed, I don’t know what procedure he had done, but it sounded very painful, rather him than me.
I am now firmly in the fools paradise zone, the op has been done, I feel very little pain and I can walk/shuffle along using a walking frame, you do not dread the visit from the physio, sadly this is not to last, you make the transition sometime on day 2, you are now on intravenous paracetamol I think, along with opiate based tablets, one being the dreaded tramadol, just sort of makes me sleepy although it’s purpose is pain relief while trying to mobilise, and my god, you do need that.
Also around this time various members of staff start asking you about your toilet habits, with questions like have you opened your bowels since your operation, I well remember the confusion I felt as a 10 year old lad following an appendicectomy, I had no idea what I was being asked, never having heard that question asked before, I totally forget what question my Mum would have posed me, but it would have been obvious but polite, no course language in our house.
But this is where things get really difficult, I have never been comfortable shitting whilst in bed, albeit using some sort of receptacle, far preferring the gentle splash of the water closet, but probably best not to lie, in my incapacitated state they would know anyway, so time to take the laxative drink, Christ, what is likely to happen now.
Well not a great deal really, plenty of farting, but my mind went back to the days of using the underground trains, you could feel the rush of air being pushed along by the train a tadge before the train actually arrived, quite a disconcerting thought. I needn’t have worried, I seem to be very well constipated.
Anyway the physio has now come to my rescue, I can at least get to my en-suite now if accompanied, and then be left alone to contemplate, no more shitting in the bed, thank God, I managed to escape that indignity.
So that sort of brings me up to date for now. Yesterday was very exciting as I suffered 2 x bouts of Vasovagal (sounds like something that ladies might use) that resulted in brief period of blind panic whilst I was given an oxygen mask to wear and an intravenous drip hastily connected to my cannula, if any of you that read this dross has Sue’s phone number, please do NOT mention this her, she would worry unnecessarily.
Just had another session with the delightful Greek physio young lady, she puts me through absolute hell, but she is very good, because I missed a days physio yesterday due to my bouts of Vasovagal, I am now a day behind with my progress, I had only booked a 3 night stay as advised, but will have to make a decision tomorrow as to whether I will be ready to go home, I am trying to negotiate the additional day at a favourable rate, favourable to me that is, not the Cromwell. I will find out tomorrow whether my negotiating skills are as sharp as when I ran my business.
To be continued…..
If you have little or no interest in things medical, and feel they should not be on this forum, then simply move on to the next motorcycle orientated subject.
So firstly a little of my history, from a fairly early age, as soon as I could run really, I enthusiastically set about trying to destroy my lower limb function as quickly as possible, and continued to do so for the next forty years, running falls with bruised and cut knees cycle crashes, motorcycle crashes, football, squash and half marathon running, oh yes, nearly forgot, also endlessly kicking over a Vincent motorcycle that invariably was reluctant to start.
I did a pretty good job if I say so myself, by the age of 40 I had already had 5 knee operations split between both knees, in the main, ligament and meniscus repair/trim or removal. I was starting to feel the effects of this so I curtailed all those stupid activities, and limited myself to motorcycling and walking in the countryside or coast paths, and I was very happy to do this, but these conditions are not static, they progress and accelerate at finally quite an alarming rate.
I stoically battled on with the help of knee supports with increasing levels of sophistication, hinged bits of metal etc. And also with the help of Mr Paracetamol and Mr Ibuprofen, getting the bike in and out of the van, with ramps and electric winch was getting a bit scary, especially one day when the ramp was damp, and the bike slid all the way down the ramp with the front brake locked solid, Luckily I got away with that, in those few seconds I was praying my knees would not buckle.
The end game is very near when you are woken in the middle of the night with knee pain, also after a day 3-4 hour drive you have to brace yourself to get out of the cab seat and attempt to walk, so it becomes time to do something about it. On recommendation and research I went to see the best knee specialist that I could find local to me.
David Houlihan-Burne, he took one superficial look and told me they were both shot, no doubt, but did request X-rays just to confirm, they were shot, mostly bone touching bone, the next step was CAT scans to get the replacement knee implants sized and selected.
David uses the latest state of the art robot assisted surgery by MACO to ensure accuracy, gone are the days of a one size fits all, and the surgeon does his bit by eye, knowledge and experience, and if you are really lucky on the day, close to 3 degrees of accuracy, but probably nearer 6 degrees, David and MAKO expects 1/2 degree.
So the big day arrives, fasting from the evening of the day before, only clear fluids up to 6am on the day. Arrive in theatre for epidural and sedation, but not general anaesthetic, get to see my new knee implants on a large screen all in nice colours and shiny metal, then just drift off for a nice relaxing sleep.
Come round in the recovery room with a guy next to me literally screaming in agony, unless he was Screaming Lord Sutch, but the guy was to young, and I think the Lord has passed, I don’t know what procedure he had done, but it sounded very painful, rather him than me.
I am now firmly in the fools paradise zone, the op has been done, I feel very little pain and I can walk/shuffle along using a walking frame, you do not dread the visit from the physio, sadly this is not to last, you make the transition sometime on day 2, you are now on intravenous paracetamol I think, along with opiate based tablets, one being the dreaded tramadol, just sort of makes me sleepy although it’s purpose is pain relief while trying to mobilise, and my god, you do need that.
Also around this time various members of staff start asking you about your toilet habits, with questions like have you opened your bowels since your operation, I well remember the confusion I felt as a 10 year old lad following an appendicectomy, I had no idea what I was being asked, never having heard that question asked before, I totally forget what question my Mum would have posed me, but it would have been obvious but polite, no course language in our house.
But this is where things get really difficult, I have never been comfortable shitting whilst in bed, albeit using some sort of receptacle, far preferring the gentle splash of the water closet, but probably best not to lie, in my incapacitated state they would know anyway, so time to take the laxative drink, Christ, what is likely to happen now.
Well not a great deal really, plenty of farting, but my mind went back to the days of using the underground trains, you could feel the rush of air being pushed along by the train a tadge before the train actually arrived, quite a disconcerting thought. I needn’t have worried, I seem to be very well constipated.
Anyway the physio has now come to my rescue, I can at least get to my en-suite now if accompanied, and then be left alone to contemplate, no more shitting in the bed, thank God, I managed to escape that indignity.
So that sort of brings me up to date for now. Yesterday was very exciting as I suffered 2 x bouts of Vasovagal (sounds like something that ladies might use) that resulted in brief period of blind panic whilst I was given an oxygen mask to wear and an intravenous drip hastily connected to my cannula, if any of you that read this dross has Sue’s phone number, please do NOT mention this her, she would worry unnecessarily.
Just had another session with the delightful Greek physio young lady, she puts me through absolute hell, but she is very good, because I missed a days physio yesterday due to my bouts of Vasovagal, I am now a day behind with my progress, I had only booked a 3 night stay as advised, but will have to make a decision tomorrow as to whether I will be ready to go home, I am trying to negotiate the additional day at a favourable rate, favourable to me that is, not the Cromwell. I will find out tomorrow whether my negotiating skills are as sharp as when I ran my business.
To be continued…..
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