My Cane’s a Crutch

That time you slip on your freshly swiffered hardwood floor and as you are recovering your balance, your cane – which you are currently highly dependent on – goes flying down an entire flight of stairs. Stunned, you remember there is another cane just a few feet away that you can hobble to like you’re walking on a tightrope. But, just as you grasp that cane and turn back, you slip AGAIN and that cane too goes flying down the stairs.

Not moving from the sofa till husband gets home. Finishing the Netflix series, You, since I’m already living a nightmare. It’s awesome, btw.

(Nothing was hurt, everything is fine, but terror was in the air for a few seconds as I pondered what my next move would be.)

Lost Cane

One Week Update on Knee Surgery

I have received a lot of sweet emails, texts, and calls over the past few days, so I thought I’d do a quick update on my progress. I’m doing better than expected and reaching the goals set out for me by in-home therapy.

In knee speak, I’m at a 0 degree extension (straight leg) and 104 degree flexion at the one-week point which is pretty darn good, if I say so myself. I had read a lot of books ahead of time about bending my knee just hours after surgery even though one may not want to. That seems to have set me on a good path in terms of my flexion.

Not all is sunny and bright. I still cannot lift my leg on my own, which is, my therapist tells me, fairly common. She explained, in some sort of medical-ese, about signals not being able to get to my quad, blah blah blah, because of inflammation from the surgery. That should come around within the next few weeks. Weeks?! It does make for difficult mobility, but I am determined.

The pain has been far less than I expected, except when the physical terrorist is around. She seems like such a nice lady, but the chick has a dark side, I’m telling you.

My modesty is keeping me in the house until I graduate to the cane. You know things are wonky when graduating to a cane is something one looks forward to. That, and getting into a car is not for the faint-hearted. It requires an extra hour just for the plan of attack. So, for now, I’m all tucked in my cozy new family room for the long game.

I’ve been happily entertained with phone calls and visits. Surprisingly, I have had no interest in reading the gazillion books I had looked so forward to digging into nor have I binged any of the series I have waiting for me on Netflix. Sounds like I have a while more of this sitting around business, so there will be time.

In the meantime, the hours fly between therapy sessions, and the rest of the time I’m figuring out how to juggle a glass of water while walking with a walker.  I’m telling you, it’s the small things, man.

Posting a safe picture of my post-op new friend. I’ll spare you any of the graphic details of what she looks like under that ace bandage.

Knee Surgery

Surgery Day!

Christine’s husband here.

She wanted me to thank all the well-wishers yesterday, by phone and text and to give you all a quick update. She is out of surgery and her surgeon said that all went as well as we could have hoped. She is in recovery and expected to have her first PT session this afternoon. I’m sure she’ll update later, but warns that she may be loopy as the day is long. She also sends her appreciation and told me that the good wishes helped keep her calm and positive.

Cheers!

Quick update from me: Been a long day, but surgery went well. Had a scary episode post-surgery, but doing well now. Already up for a few tics, but the vagaling (fainting) made everyone a bit cautious. It was me that pushed to get up and walk an hour after surgery, so clearly my ambition got ahead of my ability, hence the vagal. Husband and son have been terrific, and Hopkins has been exemplary so far. Thanks for the good thoughts, positive energy, and prayers in the lead up to the big day. I appreciate them more than I can express at the moment.

Rite of “Passage”

I’ve just completed the Just-Turned-Fifty Right-of Passage, passage, of course, being the operative word. If you are under 50, move along. Please. You have no business here.

If you are over 50, you either know what I’m talking about or you should know. They say the prep is the worst part. It isn’t. The worry is the worst part. (But, the prep is pretty awful – I’ve learned a few tips that helped. PM me if you want to know more.) And, coming out of this with a clean bill of health is a worthy pay-out for a day or two of running through worst-case scenarios in my tiny brain.

The fasting part was actually the easiest, because really, when you’ve just drank a quart of dirty sea sludge, trust me, you don’t have an appetite. I vow never to complain about having four bathrooms in our home again – they came in very handy. A half a stone lighter, not nearly as hungry as I thought I’d be and enjoying life on this side of the milestone makes me want to judge (harshly) those of you who have put off this event because you are afraid.

Colonoscopies are no picnic, but I imagine wearing a colostomy bag on your stomach for the rest of your life isn’t, either. From what I’ve read, colon cancer is the second leading cause of death in our country. Here’s the thing – caught as polyps (as my husband’s were) ensures the cancer is nipped in the bud, so to speak.

Stop being a baby.

The only disappointing thing about this whole experience is that they don’t give out stickers like they do at the voting booth on election day.