All through my coffee break time

For today’s earworm, let’s remember Bert Bacharach, who died this week aged 94.

Bacharach largely owned pop music composing in the 60s and 70s—it was hard to turn on an AM station (Google it) for 20 minutes without hearing one of his songs. The voice most associated with his work was Dionne Warwick’s, and I have to say that to me, they all pretty much sounded alike.

One of his biggest hits was “Say a Little Prayer”. I have a recording of Aretha Franklin singing it, but I’m going to share a clip from My Best Friend’s Wedding, where Julia Roberts is handed her hat by the genuinely happy family of the girl who’s about to marry the man Julia just realized she wants for herself. The thing that does it for me is the waving crab claws at the end.

 

 

SITREP: S plus 14

Another milestone in my journey to bionics. First post-op checkup by orthopod.

Naturally, it was the orthopod PA, because the Big Guy doesn’t concern himself with such trivialities. I think the appointment would need to be more than 10 minutes, for one thing.

But milestone achieved, because the bandage came off. Viz, before:

(Notice swelling and bruising. WRT the latter, something about all the trauma settling below the actual incision and gravity?)

And after:

Interestingly, no staples. There are sub-cutaneous dissolving sutures, and the surface is held together by surgical glue. Incision is 17.5 cm.

Not sure if that qualifies me to say I’m being held together by chewing gum and baling wire, but it’s in the vicinity. The swelling will be a fixture for weeks, apparently.

Fun fact: they had a robot in there to help drill holes in things and properly seat the devices. X-rays are cool.

Anyway—he pronounced himself pleased with my range of motion; I can achieve straight leg, and bend beyond 90 degrees, which apparently is the one-month goal. When I told him I’m driving, he cautioned me. Well, he burst out, “Are you taking Oxycodone?” No. Then he cautioned me to start by driving to an empty parking lot and practicing, etc.

Behind my mask I was mouthing, “Dude—that train has so left the station. How do you think I got here today?”

However, yesterday I also had a rather strenuous PT session, which kind of knocked the sass out of me, so I’m taking caution under advisement. Evidently I'll be living with the swelling for at least a month and the road to healing is not a simple one.

Next milestone: second post-surgical checkup in a month.

 

 

Junk mail

I was trawling through some digital files and came across this one I saved about nine years ago. It’s a phishing attempt.

What struck me at the time was not only the Anglo-Indian language, but the fact that it’s allegedly from Canada Post (without any branding). To someone (at the time) in The Valley They Call Silicon.

I thought it risible, but the thing about these cheap, crude efforts is that they pay off frequently enough to make them still a thing, even a decade on.

Don't contribute to their profits, people.

 

 

New diet

Let me take this opportunity to tell you how disgusting frozen dinners are. I stocked up because the hospital instructions said you don’t want to be messing with cookery in the aftermath of total knee replacement.

You’d have thought, what with technology and nutritional science, that they’d advanced since the days of Swanson’s TV dinners. But you’d be wrong.

I’ve had a couple of Lean Cuisines, a Marie Callender “Café Steamer”, one of her pot pies and something I don’t even recall. The only decent one was the Trader Joe chicken tikka masala. The café steamer was so bad that when I put the remnants out for the fox; he left them. But he ate the bits of sourdough roll I also tossed out.

Thank god for Progresso canned soup.

 

 

 

Gratitude Monday: Getting around

Big one today: driving achieved!

This was a huge milestone for someone from LA; being unable to get around via automobile (with emphasis on the “auto”) is an Angeleño’s worst nightmare. In fact, whenever I’m under stress for a period of time, I start having dreams about being unable to find my car, crashing my car, having my car be stolen.

(In the run-up to surgery, I dreamt every night for more than a week about car-catastrophes. In one of them I drove into a swamp. These are genuine nightmares.)

But I had a notice from the local library that a book I’d put on hold (I was about number 235 on the list when I placed the hold) was available. So I marched carefully to my car, got in, fired up the engine in 18-degree weather (God bless Swedish engineering), engaged the clutch and took off.

Everything worked as designed. No pain, able to move from accelerator to brake, pressure through knee fine. The worst part was getting out of the driver’s seat. Guy in the Honda who wanted to pull up next to me in the library lot had to wait while I carefully lifted the leg out and got everything aligned for real automotion.

That trip to the library was Liberty Leading the People—I can get myself to appointments without bothering friends or fighting with Anthem about paying for Uber. I can grocery shop (the new Wegmans is across the street from my PT!). I can go into the office to use the high-speed color printer and pick up some fresh fruit.

I can live my best fourth-generation Californian life.

Mega thanks for that.

 

 

 

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.