It was exactly one week ago that I left for the hospital for my right knee replacement. That knee had been grinding away at the cartilage of which hardly any remained. There is only so much pain one can learn to live with knowing that there is a solution. And so, the die was cast earlier this year, with the calculation that Axel had to take on the caretaker role, half a year into is recovery from the serious back surgery last November. We figured, he should be able to manage after he had managed to look after himself while I was in South African in February. We both believed he should now also be able to look after me in addition to himself. And so, we set the date for May 8, just far enough ahead of summer that I could still expect to be enjoying this summer on two legs, and with at least one functioning knee. The other knee will be next but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
Our daughters were lined up to take turns helping during the first and most acute phase of recovery. I am so grateful to have these daughters in our lives. Yesterday’s Mother’s Day for me is more like ‘Grateful For Daughters’ Day.
The operation went well, and after one and a half hours I was rolled into the recovery room. A few hours later I was released from the hospital as I had opted out of a hospital stay if all had gone as planned. It was a lovely day, and my nerve block was still active so that I felt on top of the world, pushing my walker around the house with ease. Sita’s mother-in-law who is a retired nurse, showed up just as we arrived and helped me out of the car, and then explained all the pills that we had picked up from the pharmacy. Tessa showed up later, we sorted the pills into pill boxes and the electronic pill reminder app that we discovered during Axel’s convalescence. The app’s tracking and sorting functions are very when one is in an opioid brain fog.
A few weeks earlier I learned from my insurance company that, if I wanted this, a food preparation service would be sending me weekly boxes of fresh prepared, then frozen meals (lunch, dinner, and some snack) for the next eight weeks. Of course, I said. There were a few glitches with the delivery that first week. The company sent another box to make up for the glitch and now we have a freezer full of meals and soups. The meals are healthy and balanced and quite nice. Even belter, they took away the pressure on my caregivers to think about lunches and dinners.
It was a hard landing the next day when the nerve block wore out. The visiting nurse and the visiting physical therapist showed up the next day to take my vitals and offer advice, encouragement, and support. PT started right away, no time to waste. I was up and moving around in my walker with remarkable ease. They taught me tricks to get in and out of bed.
The PT came again a few days later and immediately started piling new exercises on the 4 she had left me with only 2 days earlier. PTs do that, they never take exercises away, they only add. Axel’s back exercises number in the twenties now. Every morning he is surveying the various piles (stretches, strengthening, less important, more important). He organizes and straightens the piles in a way that makes me think, just doing that, touching the sheets, counts towards doing the exercises. We have more and more of those copied sheets lying around our bedroom.
The new exercises were hard and painful. I dreaded having to do them 3 times a day. I did them faithfully for the required repetitions and holding seconds for a day and a half. That night I was in great pain and doubled the pain medication, to no avail. Two days and nights like that and I became irritable and depressed. When the nurse checked in by phone on Saturday morning, I told her that the new exercises where killing me and she said, “ well, we don’t want you dead, so back off.” I went on a strike to test my theory that these exercises were setting me back. I have been doing much better and no longer needed to double up the pain medication. The day of reckoning will come when the PT shows up again tomorrow.
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