Nervous much?

Well, since I had been finding out the tiny bit of knowledge and research there is out there about Kienbock's Disease, I started to get really nervous. There are several different types of "treatments" for Kienbock's depending on the stage you are in, and the severity of your bone conditions.

My radius being significantly longer than my ulna was causing the intense, literally bone crushing pain. Dr. P. said that if we didn't relieve the pressure on my hand bones (aka, carpal bones) then worse things would start happening. His goal was to stop the degradation of the collapsed lunate and potential development of further fractures or avascular necroses while also attempting to slow down the eventuality of arthritis. Now, once you develop arthritis with Kienbock's Disease, you're pretty much screwed. I mean, yes, I have permanent damage and I will be permanently disabled and I will deteriorate over time ... but lucky me this is not a fatal disease. Just a crippling one.

So, the first order of business in treating my Kienbock's would be a join leveling surgery. This would even out the playing field for any doctor treating me in the future. So, what is joint leveling?

It has nothing to do with joints. Joint leveling is the process of mathematically extracting a portion of bone in order to shorten it, or to cut the bone to lengthen it. They were literally going to saw my bone in half, take out a sizable chunk, drill holes in the entire bone, secure it by screwing it back together with a titanium plate and screws. Mind blowing, right?

Well, needless to say I was antsy. I wanted to get this surgery over and done with. I wanted pain relief. I wanted to start the process of dealing with my disease. I wanted a lot.

This is when the eye twitch started. I called and scheduled my surgery for Thanksgiving Day, November of 2009. See, Germans don't celebrate Thanksgiving like Americans and Canadians do. In fact, most Germans think it's all cliche like on the TV or in the movies. The last 2 Thanksgivings we spent with our German neighbors who had never eaten turkey, stuffing, pumpkin pie, or green bean casserole. This year, I had an eye twitch, and an itch to have a small, intimate Thanksgiving prior to my surgery with my husband.

Well, I had this eye twitch the entire 3 months before my surgery. It was a pain the the butt to say the least. I wear contacts normally, but was remanded to my glasses. I went to the eye doctor before surgery to get my regular check-up, order new glasses and contacts, and to complain about the eye twitch. There was nothing he could do. He said it was an unconscious bodily response to my nerves regarding my impending dissection.

I love school. I love music. I love teaching music. For some reason, I felt like I lived in a blur this entire time. I have no idea how I got through school, teaching music lessons, and recording my music (just in case the surgery rendered me incapable to play ever again).

I worried non-stop. My family has a history of allergies to anesthetics. I've had my fair share of problems. Once, I had a cavity when I was 18. I went to the dentist so they could drill it out and fill it. They gave me 6 shots and I still hadn't numbed so they just drilled completely through my tooth and filled it. It was the most horrific experience I've had at a dentist, and has scared me away from them forever. When I went in to Atos to to a pre-surgery screening, they asked lots of questions and I tried to tell them about my family's allergies. Come to find out later, they never understood what I was saying ...

I also had my husband take me into my school to get me registered as a disabled student with student affairs, and to the bank to tell them I wouldn't be able to use my right hand so if I signed checks or came in to bank, they had a note on my account. It's permanent now, just in case something ever happens while I'm still banking with them. They're nice about that.

One of the weird things I was worried about was my handwriting. I have always been complimented on my neat, legible and pretty handwriting. I'm no Renaissance woman with a pen or pencil, but I do pride myself on having nice handwriting. I kept asking my husband if my handwriting would change. I didn't want it to change. I also asked him if I'd have to re-learn how to use my hand and arm. He had no answers to anything.

I didn't stop being nervous even the night before my surgery. I ran over to my neighbors and asked if they would take my dog for the next day and night. Their little boys love my dog. Although the boys speak no English, I taught my dog some German commands - and my dog was used to playing with them all the time anyways. My neighbors in Germany were wonderful. We had 4 sets of neighbors that were were really friendly with, and then there was Anne and Benedict. They were fabulous. So, when I went freaking out about my dog, Anne gave me a present. I now had a lucky pig, which I took with me to the hospital, and that I usually keep in my bedroom by my bed now.

In spite of all the nervousness and fright I had been slowly building to a climax, I still wanted to do this. If you don't treat Kienbock's disease, you run the risk of further complications. I'd spent the last 8 years getting worse because no one took care of it. The nerves might have been hard to handle at times, annoying to my husband, annoying to me (stupid eye twitch!), but I was ultimately set. I wanted everything fixed. I wanted my life back.