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Out of the Tunnel 01.04.2004 | 8:01 pm
When I came home from the hospital, about 2 � weeks ago, I didn�t fully realize the extent of the surgery and the pain I would have to endure to begin to become whole once again. When the surgeon came out and talked to hubby after the operation, he told him that he was surprised I was even able to walk on my knee for as long as I had, for it had collapsed and deteriorated badly. Because of that fact, he had to add extenders to my ligaments that hold the tibia and femur together, and take extra time repairing the bones before securing the new titanium knee. All I can say to this is, when the entire anesthesia wore off, I felt every repair and addition the doctor had put in place with a vengeance! It seems as though I could not find an effective pain reliever that would last as long as required by the FDA. I found myself taking pain pills as often as every hour and a half on some days, just to be able to breath without moaning. The doctor also put me on a very evil medication called Cumidin, a blood thinner. This basically keeps the blood from clotting and slows the healing process to a snails pace. After about a week of taking the evil drug, I noticed that my vast assortment of purple and black bruises were not making any progress, and still remained excruciatingly painful day and night. I quietly took myself off the evil drug, and within 48 hours began to notice a remarkable improvement in how my entire leg felt and looked. Shhh....don�t tell the DR. Also during the first week home, I put in four calls to the Dr�s office, asking for a change in pain medication, owing to the fact that the measly Lortab I was on was simply NOT doing the job unless I doubled the dosage. I got NO response from the Dr the whole first week. The only time I received any communication from them was when the pharmacy called them to inform them I was taking too much Lortab. Well....DUH...I knew that! I needed something stronger. I actually had to go almost 36 hours without any pain medication at all before the Dr. finally wrote a prescription for Percocet right before Christmas. Grrr! During all this time, believe it or not, I was actually making quite a bit of progress with therapy and mobility. I think the fact that I have been so active up until the surgery had made a big difference. Right now I rarely use my cane for walking, and am doing well with all the exercises I have been given. Christmas was a big blur mostly. Newly married daughter and husband flew in for the holiday. It was fun and difficult to have company in my state. Throughout this whole ordeal I have been very emotional and prone to crying spells. I think I have been mostly frustrated with the pain med dilemma and then I am a �type A� girl anyway. On the surface I have a calm demeanor, but underneath, there is always a torrent of stress and emotion....always worrying about pleasing others, making sure things get done right etc. I felt bad that I couldn�t talk anyone in the family into buying and putting up a tree. This is the first time in 32 years of marriage I have not had a live, beautiful tree. (sniff) I was pleased that I had some extra time to get all the presents wrapped and labeled before I went into the hospital. And, I think everyone enjoyed their gifts. I never really have cared about what I get, but have enjoyed the surprise and happiness I witness as others open my gifts to them. It has been an interesting experience having hubby doing all the housework and running the short order caf�. He really is very kind and patient, but he never wipes up the counter. I believe I have mentioned that before. Although, occasionally, I have noticed that he is beginning to improve in that skill a bit. He has the Saturday chore routine down pretty good too. He can even get all the dust bunnies up before mopping the kitchen. That is a real trick in the desert...land of dust bunnies. My cat has always had a second sense about my health. Each time I have come home from the hospital with a new scar, she instinctively knows the point on my body that is ailing. Usually she tries to sniggle right up next to the afflicted area and just settle in and purr. My daughter has taken to calling this �purr therapy.� When I first came home, kitty couldn�t get near my leg because I had this machine on the bed called a continuous motion machine. Basically, I was able to rest the operative leg in the sling-like apparatus, and the machine slowly bent and flexed my knee throughout the night. Kitty didn�t like the �bend-o-matic�. Well, the machine is gone, and now kitty is right on top of my leg ...all night long. I can move her off, move her over, coddle and cajole her, but she insists on performing �purr therapy� whenever she can get away with it. So tomorrow starts week four...post surgery. I have to call the Dr�s office, once again, and try to explain to them what I feel I need to help me survive the coming week. I will begin out-patient therapy at an office not too far from home, which I will like. The few Christmas items that are our around the house, I will be putting away, and I am going to read a Harry Potter book to keep my mind off my troubles. It is nice to be able to have enough energy and mobility to sit at the key board and give you all and update.
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It seems as though I can finally see a glimmer of light at the end of a long, painful, miserable tunnel. The last two weeks have been incredibly difficult, intense, frustrating and somewhat hopeless in my view. Although I have been down the long path of major surgery and long recoveries many, many times, this one has been, by far, the most trying. Today, however, I went to church for the first time in about six weeks. I really felt like my world got a tremendously sweet and uplifting jump-start. I was so happy to see friends and listen to the beautiful music. I was not able to sing through all the verses of �All Creatures of Our God and King� because I was just so happy and emotional. I wanted to yell out, hallelujah during the refrain of each verse, because I was so happy to finally be out of my sick bed and back in the normal world. 