Spring! Fifteen minutes
On the stationary bike.
Leg is glad. Then nap.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
Post-post
Didn't mean to make so many people nervous with that last post. I am fine. Fever/chills are gone, although I'm still taking it easy. Mostly couch-surfing, eating brownies, and watching old episodes of Lost. Starting to get a little stir-crazy with inactivity, as well as itchy along the incision, which is a good sign. In addition, I ingested my last Vicodin yesterday morning and haven't felt the need for another. So meddling along as I should be, with just a brief trip down funk lane.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Headed Up the River With A Boat and No Paddle
(and they got me on lockdown)
Laying in bed last night, heart racing, face burning up, body shivering. Song lyrics on repeat in my head (WHY does that always happen when you're not feeling good? And it's never a song you really like).
Two possibilities:
1. Meds are doing a number on me. Highly possible. Vicodin's no joke. Also still working all the crap out of my system from the hospital.
2. I'm overdoing it. Also highly possible, since I've been both to the movies and the theater within a week of having surgery. Hey, I never said I was a role model.
So as a consequence, I'm on lockdown until the inmates stop rioting. I think their demands are better met when I stop trying to pretend like someone didn't just cut a hole in my leg last week.
Laying in bed last night, heart racing, face burning up, body shivering. Song lyrics on repeat in my head (WHY does that always happen when you're not feeling good? And it's never a song you really like).
Two possibilities:
1. Meds are doing a number on me. Highly possible. Vicodin's no joke. Also still working all the crap out of my system from the hospital.
2. I'm overdoing it. Also highly possible, since I've been both to the movies and the theater within a week of having surgery. Hey, I never said I was a role model.
So as a consequence, I'm on lockdown until the inmates stop rioting. I think their demands are better met when I stop trying to pretend like someone didn't just cut a hole in my leg last week.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Good - Bad - Ugly
Good:
- No more metal in me YAY!
- Supermom is back in full effect. I get so spoiled when she's here.
- I can walk around the block and a little more. (with crutches, obvi)
- Knee and hip both still bend a lot.
- Don't need a lot of Vicodin - taking 250mg three or four times a day (this time last year, 1500mg/3x day)
- Sun is shining
- Birds are singing
- Trees are treeing
Bad:
- Occasionally, I am super aware of the sensation of several large bags of rice tied around my upper thigh and pulling on my leg in a heavy and uncomfortable way.
- Other sensations include surface pain (sharp), deeper pain (throbbing) and midway pain (sharp throbbing). I could probably up the meds, but am wary of the detox factor to come. None of it is enough to cause alarm and all retreat soon after they rear up.
Ugly:
- Me, with pants off. The area looks like someone whacked me with a baseball bat and then covered it with steri strips.
- Me, with pants on. I have phenomenal, stop-you-in-your-tracks booty, but only on the one side.
- Both are temporary, and therefore more funny than ugly.
Metal:
- Has been formally requested via fax. However, I am slightly nervous that it may have been discarded already (apparently, you're supposed to request it ahead of time, FYI Laura et al). We shall see.
- No more metal in me YAY!
- Supermom is back in full effect. I get so spoiled when she's here.
- I can walk around the block and a little more. (with crutches, obvi)
- Knee and hip both still bend a lot.
- Don't need a lot of Vicodin - taking 250mg three or four times a day (this time last year, 1500mg/3x day)
- Sun is shining
- Birds are singing
- Trees are treeing
Bad:
- Occasionally, I am super aware of the sensation of several large bags of rice tied around my upper thigh and pulling on my leg in a heavy and uncomfortable way.
- Other sensations include surface pain (sharp), deeper pain (throbbing) and midway pain (sharp throbbing). I could probably up the meds, but am wary of the detox factor to come. None of it is enough to cause alarm and all retreat soon after they rear up.
Ugly:
- Me, with pants off. The area looks like someone whacked me with a baseball bat and then covered it with steri strips.
- Me, with pants on. I have phenomenal, stop-you-in-your-tracks booty, but only on the one side.
- Both are temporary, and therefore more funny than ugly.
Metal:
- Has been formally requested via fax. However, I am slightly nervous that it may have been discarded already (apparently, you're supposed to request it ahead of time, FYI Laura et al). We shall see.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
The Grand Unveiling
Will have to wait, because I took the big bandage off this morning, and it's a little gruesome under there. Nothing that my tough hip sisters would flinch at, but a little too much dried blood and blister action to take an actual picture of. Once the steri-strips 'fall' off (not that I would ever do anything like play with the edges or peel them off. What kind of person do you take me for?) I'll take a picture and post it.
Dr. Buly claimed he only went in about half of the original 7 inch scar, but the steri-strips cover at least 5 inches of it. So either the strips are covering more than the incision, or he manipulated the truth. Or the truth shifted. I'm not really complaining. I'm not complaining at all actually, because for day 3 after surgery I feel really freaking good. Yesterday I only took 2 Vicodin, and today I've yet to take any. Leg is weakish and the surrounding muscles feel really tight, but so much stronger than it was this time last time. I'm tired by the end of the day, but big deal. If I can get off the Vicodin completely, I can get my drink on again. That's some serious motivation.
Dr. Buly claimed he only went in about half of the original 7 inch scar, but the steri-strips cover at least 5 inches of it. So either the strips are covering more than the incision, or he manipulated the truth. Or the truth shifted. I'm not really complaining. I'm not complaining at all actually, because for day 3 after surgery I feel really freaking good. Yesterday I only took 2 Vicodin, and today I've yet to take any. Leg is weakish and the surrounding muscles feel really tight, but so much stronger than it was this time last time. I'm tired by the end of the day, but big deal. If I can get off the Vicodin completely, I can get my drink on again. That's some serious motivation.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Done and Done
Well, that was easy. I mean, relatively speaking.
In at 8.30am, scrubbed vigorously by the nurse and asked by the usual suspects what my name was and what I was having done, de-metaled (once again, no recollection past the anesthesiologist's "I'm giving you a sedative," in the OR) and in recovery by 1pm. Was pretty sleepy/wasted but told I could possibly go home that day if I felt up to it. Never one to back down from a challenge, I decided I would feel up to it, even though it made my mom's forehead crinkle. By 3pm I was much more alert, so a PT was summoned to go over crutch walking and stairs (just like James Brown, get up on the good foot). Nurse took the epidural out of my spine and the IV out of my hand and wheeled me out the door.
Was so glad to sleep in my own bed last night, although since I'm not a huge back-sleeper I rolled around a little too much and kept waking the beast. It's swollen back to shelf size, but only right where the incision is (which is still deep under wraps) and I have probably 75% range of motion in my leg and hip, which is really exciting (post first surgery, it was about 5%). Lord and Lady Nauseous McHeadache arrived early this morning (don't they know to call first? You'd think their manners would be better) but right now I feel pretty good. The less Vicodin I take, the better the rest of me feels, so finding the balance is my current job. That and eating rice pudding.
As for the metal, it went to pathology... for an autopsy? Don't really know why, but the deal is I call and request it, and it's sent to me. So don't worry, you'll see it soon enough. Once the bandages come off I'll show you my butt too, because I know that view never gets boring. Aw, yeah.
In at 8.30am, scrubbed vigorously by the nurse and asked by the usual suspects what my name was and what I was having done, de-metaled (once again, no recollection past the anesthesiologist's "I'm giving you a sedative," in the OR) and in recovery by 1pm. Was pretty sleepy/wasted but told I could possibly go home that day if I felt up to it. Never one to back down from a challenge, I decided I would feel up to it, even though it made my mom's forehead crinkle. By 3pm I was much more alert, so a PT was summoned to go over crutch walking and stairs (just like James Brown, get up on the good foot). Nurse took the epidural out of my spine and the IV out of my hand and wheeled me out the door.
Was so glad to sleep in my own bed last night, although since I'm not a huge back-sleeper I rolled around a little too much and kept waking the beast. It's swollen back to shelf size, but only right where the incision is (which is still deep under wraps) and I have probably 75% range of motion in my leg and hip, which is really exciting (post first surgery, it was about 5%). Lord and Lady Nauseous McHeadache arrived early this morning (don't they know to call first? You'd think their manners would be better) but right now I feel pretty good. The less Vicodin I take, the better the rest of me feels, so finding the balance is my current job. That and eating rice pudding.
As for the metal, it went to pathology... for an autopsy? Don't really know why, but the deal is I call and request it, and it's sent to me. So don't worry, you'll see it soon enough. Once the bandages come off I'll show you my butt too, because I know that view never gets boring. Aw, yeah.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
T Minus
Surgery scheduled for 11.30am tomorrow. One hour in recovery, then an overnight at HSS.
I feel blessed to be surrounded by so many angels and I'm so grateful for your calls and texts and well wishes and prayers. And trashy magazines. Won't be posting from the bedside this time as my surrogate poster is currently in Hawaii, but will take copious notes and fill you in on Friday.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I feel blessed to be surrounded by so many angels and I'm so grateful for your calls and texts and well wishes and prayers. And trashy magazines. Won't be posting from the bedside this time as my surrogate poster is currently in Hawaii, but will take copious notes and fill you in on Friday.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Cleared For Takeoff
Had my pre-op day today, and compared to last year's, it was a piece of cake. If this is the trend for the entire experience this time, then hooray I say.
It always strikes me as somewhat ironic and hilarious that HSS is so far east that it's practically falling into the river, in a part of town that's not exactly easy to access by public transport, when the people that need to get there are generally limping or on crutches for various osteo-issues. Couldn't they relocate to midtown or something?
Anyway, saw Dr. Goodman, my internist, who last time proclaimed I was "healthy as a horse," and this time noted that I "was clearly a vegetable eater." I'm not sure exactly what that means, but the good news is no Coumadin (blood thinner), no 5.30am blood donations, no special diet this time. Hooray I say again! Just aspirin morning and night post-op, and I am good to go.
Then to the nurse for blood etc. Not a donation, just to test for... stuff. I don't know. General health stuff. And things. Got my little brown sponge for the special scrub the morning of surgery and sent on my merry way. I had some time so I walked through Central Park on this glorious spring day and looked at all the people and kids and dogs, and the man playing saxophone, and felt good.
It always strikes me as somewhat ironic and hilarious that HSS is so far east that it's practically falling into the river, in a part of town that's not exactly easy to access by public transport, when the people that need to get there are generally limping or on crutches for various osteo-issues. Couldn't they relocate to midtown or something?
Anyway, saw Dr. Goodman, my internist, who last time proclaimed I was "healthy as a horse," and this time noted that I "was clearly a vegetable eater." I'm not sure exactly what that means, but the good news is no Coumadin (blood thinner), no 5.30am blood donations, no special diet this time. Hooray I say again! Just aspirin morning and night post-op, and I am good to go.
Then to the nurse for blood etc. Not a donation, just to test for... stuff. I don't know. General health stuff. And things. Got my little brown sponge for the special scrub the morning of surgery and sent on my merry way. I had some time so I walked through Central Park on this glorious spring day and looked at all the people and kids and dogs, and the man playing saxophone, and felt good.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Not Fair
I don't know about the rest of you, but sometimes this shit really kicks my ass.
Was practicing at home today, came into downward facing dog, took a deep breath and suddenly found myself on my hands and knees crying. Yoga hasn't made me cry in a long time, and in a way I'm grateful that it still holds the power to tap into something deeper than words. Yoga doesn't let me fake anything.
I had to write the sentence 'my surgery is next week' to someone today and it totally took me by surprise. Not fair, not fair, not fair!
Nope, not fair at all. But if I can let go right into that not-fairness, just settle into the sweet spot, cry when I need to and let it quiet me down, the not fair can be ok.
Was practicing at home today, came into downward facing dog, took a deep breath and suddenly found myself on my hands and knees crying. Yoga hasn't made me cry in a long time, and in a way I'm grateful that it still holds the power to tap into something deeper than words. Yoga doesn't let me fake anything.
I had to write the sentence 'my surgery is next week' to someone today and it totally took me by surprise. Not fair, not fair, not fair!
Nope, not fair at all. But if I can let go right into that not-fairness, just settle into the sweet spot, cry when I need to and let it quiet me down, the not fair can be ok.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Remaining Neutral
Was just informed by another FO'er that the metal plate which has so dutifully held me in place for the past year is Swiss made.
So in case you had any doubt, I am a precision instrument with a delightful fondant center.
So in case you had any doubt, I am a precision instrument with a delightful fondant center.
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