Two years ago I had shoulder surgery done on my right shoulder due to a seizure. Best summer of my life...not.
At the end of May 2015 I was hanging out with my brother, his wife and a couple of their friends at the Mets game. After the game me, my brother, his wife and our friend Jeff all went back to my brother and his wife's house to stay the night. I woke up the next morning having a seizure and while having the seizure I was turned the wrong way and dislocated my shoulder. It was an accident, don't worry I still love you bro.
We went to St. Francis Hospital to be checked out and put my shoulder back in and they gave me the shittiest sling ever.
6 days later I woke up in my room with the sling off, I try to get up off my stomach and my shoulder dislocates again. I was screaming bloody murder. It hurt so bad I couldn't even move. I was screaming help me so loud even though nobody was home...I called my dad I told him he is going to have to carry me because I cannot even move my legs, thats how much pain I was in. Someone on my block must have heard me scream help me because there were 2 cops outside of my house about to come inside. Once I got to the hospital, they told me I need to sign a piece of paper stating I'm not pregnant (so they can do an xray of my shoulder) I was in so much pain my only response was "look at me, I'm here screaming and cursing needing help from my dad, you think I'm ready to have children? are you nuts?! I can't even take care of myself and you think I'm about to have a child no I'm not pregnant." Keep in mind I am a righty and they want me to sign this piece of paper. I'm like I'm not pregnant, my dad can sigjn it for me. I'm like I cannot sign anything right now, my main arm is out of its socket. Even though he wasn't supposed to sign for me, they let him because I wouldn't stop cursing until they did.
So fast forward a couple hours, they finally decided that my shoulder needs to be in its socket, but I wasn't calm enough so they had to sedate me to put my shoulder back. Once my shoulder was back in and I was awake, a male nurse came in and said "are you okay, do you need anything? I was afraid to come in...you wouldn't stop screaming" So I guess its safe to say I scared nurses away. Not really surprising though. Side note...I ended up back there this past Christmas and a doctor was like oh I remember you, you're the girl who wouldn't stop screaming when I tried to put your shoulder back...I'm like great, I've become THAT patient. The one you could tell stories about. So anyway, I was told that I tore my labrum in my right shoulder and had to get surgery.
After doing tons of research on surgeons. I decided I'd go with Dr.Ticker . He's a grade A surgeon but also a grade A+ asshole. He has pretty much no bedside manners at all. He told my dad after my surgery that I don't act like a 25 year old. He fixed my shoulder and I can move it 360 degrees but its not what it used to be. The day of surgery I was freaking out. I was put under full anesthesia and had to have 3 anchors put in my right shoulder...he said there wouldn't be scarring, but there's 3 scars there. He did the surgery and they put me in this little area after and wake me up from the anesthesia...they should have never done that because I woke up screaming and cursing at the top of my lungs. I was also in hysterically crying mode. I kept screaming GET MY FUCKING DOCTOR I WANNA SEE DR. TICKER RIGHT FUCKING NOW I DON'T CARE WHAT HE IS DOING GO FUCKING GET HIM (I am probably THAT patient there also). I remember the nurse kept saying what can I do for you, do you want a drink? I'm like no I don't want a fucking drink...I want my fucking doctor....I'm not very good when it comes to pain. I can't handle it...at all. And on top of all of this pain I was prescribed topamax, a medication that isn't meant for someone who has epilepsy...wish I knew that when they gave it to me.
I went to physical therapy in wantagh where my old dance teacher did physical therapy. I ended up having ANOTHER seizure there...hense the I wish I knew topamax wasn't for epileptics. I spent all summer in PT, 3 times a week. It wasn't that bad because I knew my PT but it still sucked. I spent that entire summer in my living room in a lounge chair with this thing that looks like a cooler with a bag attached to it and I had to wear it to prevent more pain, they also gave me a much better sling, but this one had a cushion to extend my arm out. I could officially remove the sling after about 2 1/2 months after surgery. I didn't work again until the end of the summer/beginning of Sept. My mom moved a bed into the living room so she could be right by my side whenever I needed her, which was pretty much every day and to this day, she still is right there. Helping me out. So lets just say thank god for Netflix and mama Truelson. You both saved my life that summer.