Più chiaro sfavila

I’m feeling a little serious today, but with a bit of lightness. So our earworm is “Già il sole dal Gange”, an aria from the second opera Alessandro Scarlatti wrote. And here’s Cecilia Bartoli singing it.

Bring it, Phil

Here we are at Groundhog Day, when a member of the marmot clan predicts the next six weeks of weather by casting—or not—a shadow when he emerges from hibernation.

We in the District They Call Columbia got our first snowfall of Winter yesterday, after the warmest January in quite some time.

So it’s not clear to me how six more weeks of Winter is distinguishable from an early Spring around here.

 

 

An observation

While I’m doing very well vis-à-vis pain and mobility, I was perhaps somewhat optimistic about my expectations that I’d be back to work fulltime this week. Viz: yesterday, I slept in until gone 1000.

This is not normal for me, but (as I remind myself) neither am I at the moment. After all, people were pounding on me with hammers less than a week ago.

I think I’m going to take it easy for the next few days.

 

 

SITREP

Post-surgery update:

My physical therapist was genuinely impressed by my condition yesterday. I don’t quite have 180-degree extension, but it’s pretty close. Also, she got me to an 85-degree bend, and her general goal for knee replacement is 90 degrees within the first month.

I’m able to walk without walker (and cane, although I mostly do use it), and I was able to perform the initial exercises, albeit with some tiredness afterwards.

She’s also impressed that I’ve not needed the heavy duty stuff—it’s there for backup, but yay.

Our focus right now is on reducing pain and swelling, and improving range of motion.

So if you’ll excuse me now, I think I’ll sit down, stretch out my leg and slap some ice on it.

 

 

Gratitude Monday: a successful procedure

First post-op Gratitude Monday, and I give thanks that all has gone well so far.

They did keep me in hospital overnight, which I suppose was all for the best. When the surgeon came by to check on me I told him I felt like someone had been pounding me with hammers. “We prefer the term ‘mallets’”, he replied. And it turns out the procedure does involve pounding me with hammers.

I was in a haze (and had some amazing waking dreams—like being at the Salvador Dalí movie theatre, if Dalí made color cartoons instead of helping with Chien Andalou).

On Friday morning—around 0600—the nurse asked, “Do you want to sit in this chair?” I answered, “Not particularly, but I will if you want me to.”

She did.

There was a lovely sunrise, which of course I shot.

The rest of the stay was PT teaching me to use the walker and a cane going up and down stairs; getting a shedload of instructions; and OT supervising me getting dressed.

My BFF and her son chauffeured me home; and I got to practice using the walker in real time. The rest of Friday and all of Saturday was a cycle of drinking water, walking, icing the incision, reading, sleeping and weeing. Had some applesauce Friday night, soup Saturday, cantaloupe yesterday morning. I’m ready for food, I think.

I’ve graduated to using the cane most of the time—very carefully—though on my first trip to PT today I’ll take the walker. Made it upstairs yesterday afternoon and had a shower. Slept in my bed last night. Yummy.

I’m grateful for all that. Also for not having needed any pain medication higher than the Tylenol 500mg since I’ve been home. I was hoping for that—that’s my pattern in the past, but you never know. I think that the nerve block would have worn off by now, so this is what it is.

(Fun fact: you can buy Tylenol 500mg OTC in France. I hadn’t brought a lot of Tylenol 200mg with me, so went to a pharmacy in Avignon to top up. Wouldn’t you know that the dispensing pharmacy was up a flight of stairs—why would they do that? But when I asked for Paracetamol, they gave me a pack of the 500mg.)

It’s clear that I won’t be driving this week; my hopes of that were a pipe dream. But I’m grateful for the progress I’ve made, and looking forward to the future.