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.

 

 

There's always tomorrow

Given all the help I’ve received to get me to yesterday’s surgery and my recovery ahead, I think today’s earworm has to be “Lean on Me”.

Here are Bill Withers, Stevie Wonder and John Legend singing in at 2015’s Rock & Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony for Withers.

Crank up the volume.

 

 

Moving forward

Okay, today the great adventure begins. At 1130 EST I’m scheduled for total knee replacement on the right knee. I hope to be back at home late afternoon, early evening.

Thanks to everyone who’s helping me with this—offers of rides to/from hospital, staying with me for the first days, grocery shopping/errand running. And thanks for the lending of the walker and cane.

I have a bowlful of prescriptions and some major gripes with CVS and CVS/Caremark, who suck eggs. (Here’s something you don’t want to hear from your pharmacist WRT prescription labeling: “It’s a mistake.”) My portion of the surgeon and hospital bills are paid (are they afraid I won't survive and therefore want to collect days/weeks before?) I have post-op exercise instructions from my physical therapist (who is, in fact, in-network, even though the jackass at Anthem told them they weren’t), and an in-person appointment for Monday.

I had an afternoon yoga lesson yesterday, to mark the transition from Everything Before to Everything Next.

There’s a cot in my livingroom, courtesy of the friend I had dinner with on Tuesday.

Friend: Do you want to borrow a cot to set up on the ground floor?

Me: No, they want me doing stairs.

Friend:

Me: Wut?

Friend: Not while taking those drugs.

Me: Oh. Okay, thanks for lending me the cot.

My PT also reminded me to bring my toothbrush and toothpaste to the powder room on the ground floor. Good call—I wouldn’t have thought of it.

I’ve got a supply of Lean Cuisines and a stack of Agatha Christies (which are entertaining without requiring a lot of intellectual engagement), so I think I’m good to go.

See you on the other side.

 

 

Pain & suffering

On behalf of a faltering humanity, let me just ask the question: who the ever-loving hell ever thought it was a good idea for someone facing surgery to have to register with the hospital via mobile phone?

Reston Hospital Center did that several weeks ago. I told them to quit sending me texts because I wasn’t going to do anything via mobile. And yet, here we are:

Well, after going to the website (not via mobile), what do I find but this:

I swear, they can not knock me out soon enough.

France arrivals

I confess that my mind is focused on other things this week, so my posts will probably be somewhat lightweight.

I was gunging out some files and came across the pix I shot at Charles de Gaulle airport when I landed in October, so here’s what struck me about it.

First: the sunrise:

Then this ceiling light in one of the corridors between the gate and passport control (which may have been in Belgium, considering the distance I walked—plus taking a train):

But things on the floor also caught my attention:

And this:

Because in every airport in every country but the United States, these luggage carts are free! What the hell is up with US airports charging you $8 for them? It’s not like people are going to leave the airport with them. Man, that burns my bacon.

Finally, the TGV station at the fringe of CDG. I love the architecture.

 

 

 

Gratitude Monday: the badge still works

You may be aware that tech companies have been shedding employees at a rate of knots recently. My employer is among them.

But last week I learned I’m not among the thousands who’ve been let go, and I am sincerely grateful.