I'm back. Or at least most of me. I am now 1/16th robotic woman (just a guess). Quite an adventure thus far and more fun to come. On the bright side, I have lost 9 pounds since surgery. I guess one needs to "bulk up" before major surgery. However, I would not recommend this method of weight loss. I have been eating a lot healthier as 1) I have no choice; and 2) drugs do wreak havoc with one's snacking gene. Though I will admit an intimate encounter with Ben and Jerry last night where I skimmed the top off the little pint of caramel, fudge etc. etc creamy dream. But this was the treat at the end of the 210-calorie healthy veggie bowl I had for dinner. I wonder if this foray into good eating will last.
My last fully conscious day (day of surgery) occurred after the multiple tasks of cleaning one's person, clothes and sheets which also ranks up there as my last normal night of sleep. Then upon entering the inner sanctum of pre-op I had to strip down naked and wash again with six separate sheets of, thankfully warm, cloths. The hospital gowns are high-tech with an air-blown system hooked up that you control from hot to cold. However still breezy in the back which I never understood. Then at least three of us autographed my leg. I was ready to play tic-tac-toe, but they took the pen away. It's all fun and games until someone gets the actual surgery.
There was a whole team of anesthesiologists introduced to me, like we're going for drinks later. Then the "training" session with a resident who got to insert, who knows, their first spinal needle for the block. Fun and terrifying to watch on the screen as her boss guided and complimented her technique. It worked as life stopped existing below the belt. My last conscious moment was seeing four masked marauders on my left and three on the right sliding a board under me and slipping me like a slippery eel onto the operating table. Without a chance for a witticism - I was gone.
Waking an hour and half later I was able to actually make a couple of phone calls. This is known as the "honeymoon" period when one has not tried to walk yet and there is no pain. I was even able to order lunch. Do you know how unhealthy the choices are at a hospital? Though I was able to order a salad. But better off than my "fellow" recovery patients as one kept complaining loudly about being "hangrey" and no one there to give him a ride. and another having continual dry heaves. I was dubbed "the good patient" by the RN in charge.
This passes when rehab gets their hands on you. They are very matter-of-fact and, I'll say it, cruel! Anyway, she ties this harness around me and says she'll hold my gown together as she marches me through both rooms of recovery. Hello world-welcome to the full moon. Then tells me to use the walker to climb 3 steps-yeah right. I did, but a more unsafe way to mount a little platform I have never seen. All this activity along with multiple cupfuls of water and nature would not be denied. I bee lined for the restroom with the rehab lady gallantly trying to keep my assets covered. Niagara could not have been more splendid if I say so myself. That meant I met the tests of mobility and potty training and could be released. The other method of elimination took several more days but eventually all is in working order.
The OH had set up the wheelchair ramp to the back door for my entry. However, neither one of us realized the angle would be so unfriendly to wheeled walkers as I was threatened with the possibility of rolling backwards onto the garage floor. I abandoned the walker and took an arm. Over the course of time, I am getting adept at walker, cane and free-lancing (grabbing walls). But I have to demonstrate a variety of dance steps for the Doctor this week with the walker. The phrase I have heard the most the last 10 days is SLOW DOWN. PT started immediately in addition to performing 3 sets of exercises every day. Plus I have to get up and move/walk/stumble every hour. The thought that I would be sitting around eating bon bons and reading trashy novels went away immediately. This is work!
Especially love the sexy white TED compression socks I have to wear all day. As far as panty hose goes you can't destroy these suckers, which of course makes them a challenge to put on. I only needed help the first day and I rinse them out myself-autonomy and all that. I even started taking showers after two days including hair washing though the first couple of times were exhausting. So I am improving, but a long way to go.
I now switch to outside physical therapy though it was sure nice with the therapists coming to the house as they were insistent but compassionate. From what I hear that was Purgatory and the next few weeks will dip closer to Hell (for us Catholics who like to differentiate and rate after-life punishments). Speaking of PT, I just completed my first load of laundry so went up and down stairs at least three times. I showed OH how to perform the function, and he has, but I just had to get back to it. It all counts as exercise right? Even took a ride OUTSIDE to my daughter's house to reassure my grandson I was pretty much intact. He attached himself to my good side while we talked and he performed.
Even after 10 days or so it is still a major surprise every time I get up and realize "I ain't right". Going to take a while. Peace out....💚 💙💛
No comments:
Post a Comment