TRAINING & THE MEDICAL PAGE
Note the wide open goal. But no, he had to go
farther...ultimately, a goal kick.

How to get knee surgery in Victoria BC (things I learned)


Plan the date you wish to have surgery. For instance, if you have a wedding invite and
don’t wish to go or give a present, plan an injury at least thirteen months in advance.

I injured my knee in September of 2008. I visited my family doctor (who thought it might
be a meniscal tear. He had to refer me to a sports doctor (with the requisite 5 week
waiting period).

The sports doctor did the kneeling on the floor exercise and then the two hands
pressuring the knee test and thought that I had a meniscal tear and maybe an ACL tear.
He wanted an MRI to see if his diagnosis was correct.

Lucky for me, the MRI appointment was for May of 2009. After the results (which showed
a torn meniscus and possibly an ACL tear), the sports doctor recommended that I see an
orthopedic surgeon.

I managed to get an appointment on August 4, 2009 with the surgeon, but he wished an
x-ray before my visit.

The surgeon examined the MRI and the x-ray and concluded that I have a meniscal tear
and possibly an ACL tear. Surgery was needed and he would book an appropriate time
in 4 to 6 weeks.

I phoned his office in September wondering if a date had been set (after all most patients
have a life unrelated to the doctor’s schedule.) His booking nurse told me that she had
not received any paperwork from the doctor yet.

Two weeks later, an October 20 date was available unless it was bumped for a major
knee surgery. I had to return to my family doctor to get my pre-op rundown—height,
weight, medications, blood pressure, mother’s maiden name. etc.

Incidently, if you love history. A visit to your doctor’s office will avail you to publications
that are at least 10 years old.

Six days before the surgery, I got a call from the hospital. I had further pre-op
procedures, a blood test and an ECG. I managed to that 4 days before the surgery.

Finally on the day of the cut, I arrived at noon at the hospital farthest away from my home.

At admissions, I gave my care card, my name, my birthdate and the reason for my
surgery. I was duly tagged with my hospital bracelet (complete with all the information
given.)

Then to the surgical daycare desk to where I was asked my name, my  birthday and the
operation type. Then the requisite 15 minutes in the historic archive (the waiting room).

Finally, a nurse came to take me to my pre-op stall.

To ensure I was the right patient, she asked me for my name, my birthday and the
operation type.

Do not answer:  “Princess Leia Ogana, long, long ago, to remove ingrown hair muffins
from my ears.”

I got into my pre-op cubicle and was given my surgical nightie, disposable slippers and
gown. Hospitals spare no expense (none at all) on these materials. As well, the curtain
never completely closes. Getting out of my civilian clothes, I must have mooned everyone
across from me (not pretty). And the hospital duds:  one size fits none.

The nurse returned to get me a pill to calm my stomach (possibly if I got a glimpse
through someone else’s curtains.)

I was given an overview of the next few hours and possible expectations after the
surgery. (Come in at noon, try to wee before the surgery about 2 ½ hours after
admission).

Then it was time to shave the knee du jour. She certainly did go high up the thigh
(nurses are funny that way) and once dropped the shaver in disbelief. She concluded
that enough hair had been shaved and that ginger was my natural hair colour.

Then it was IV time. VIHA, in its efforts to trim costs, is now training janitorial staff to poke
needles into patients. With nurse looking on, the trainee was taught to wrap a rubber
strip around my arm to get the veins bulging and then to look for a suitable spot for
puncturing. The nurse considered the forearm and brought out the shaver again. (I will
have to wear a large watch there while the hair grows back.)

The trainee though the back of the hand would be a good place. Alcohol, jab, turn, oops,
remove. More alcohol, jab, twist, oops, remove. Cotton puff, clear tape, blood.  Nurse
stepped in, tried the shaved forearm, alcohol, jab, turn, got it.

Connect to IV. Now relax in a short bed with thin sheets and a fashionable hospital
nightie. Lucky for me, I brought along a copy of War and Peace for the wait.

Finally, the time to butcher had arrived. A large needle of indeterminate fluid was injected
into the IV. A trip down to the washroom was in order. Gown over IV and roll on down the
hallway. The washroom is conveniently placed as far as possible with the most staff and
visitors lining the way to view the parade of patients.

Back to the bed and the smallest staff person possible came to wheel me to surgery. I
now understand why hospital walls are lined with bumpers.

Arrived at OR, asked for my name, my birthday and the operation type. I got 2 out of 3
right, I incorrectly answered repair of a meniscal tear and exploratory on a ACL tear. The
correct answer was “arthoscopic surgery”.

Next, the anesthetist came by to ensure my story was correct.

Finally, the surgeon came by to make sure the left knee was right. Despite the shaving
and the yellow highliter pen I used in the morning, he drew a large arrow to the knee.

Then Mr. Roller Derby wheeled me to the O.R. Oxyen mask, another injection to the IV,
10, 9, 8, 7 …  zzzzzzz.

Woke up in post-op, bleary, bandaged and thirsty. They gave me 15 minutes to wake up
to my bright cheery self and back to pre-op stall to get ready to go home.

I got my walking papers:  no hopscotch, instruction sheet on showering after 72 hours,
some exercises during recovery, prescriptions for T3s and physio, and the surgeon’s
report that he repaired the meniscal tear and there was minor ACL tear that did not
require surgery.

Meniscal:
http://orthoinfo.aaos.org/topic.cfm?topic=A00358&webid=26DBE25F

Anterior cruciate ligament:
http://www.arthroscopy.com/sp05018.htm
Cartilage (meniscus tear)
Torn ACL. Should be a solid item
without the "V".