Visited Margaret’s house of pain this morning. That’s my physical therapist. She cranked my knee to 95 Degrees, the best so far. I can do steps in normal, well sort of normal, fashion, so she had me demonstrate that. I’m off the narcotics and suffering some withdrawal symptoms, like jitteryness and anxiety. I’m tired as hell at 10 o’clock and then when I go to bed I’m wide awake. Anyway, she seemed to be pleased with my progress.
All posts by Bob Keller
And the game is….
In the game of life you play the cards you’re dealt.
Whimp
It dawns on me that I’m a whimp. I’ve had two surgeries, spent eight days in the hospital, took some antibiotics that destroyed my appetite, i’m struggling through the pain of getting my knee working again and have the threat of a returning infection leaving me without a knee for three months. But it’s not going to kill me. I’ll eventually be fine, there is not just hope, but a fair amount of certainty. And yet I spend time in dispair. I wonder if I can stand another stay in the hospital, I induldge in self pity.
And there’s the local Marine sargent whose legs were blown off in Iraq. He’s had 30 operations. You can tell he’s a (cliche alert) shell of his former self. And he gets on TV and talks about how blessed he is, how great life is. There’s the 12 year old girl who was dragged under a van this winter by a hit and run driver. She has been in the hospital for months, she appears cheerful on the news as she struggles to regain the ability to walk. And what about those people who’s obituaries you read. “….courageous battle against cancer.” What if you had no hope. You knew the rest of your life was going to be pain and hospitalization on never getting better, only getting worse, with the likelyhood of death. What about them? I can’t imagine what I’d do, but I think I might opt for the easy way out. I’m surprised more people don’t.
So if I whine, if I tell you the rehab is too hard. If I tell you I’m afraid of the infection returning, kick me in the ass, tell me I’m a lucky bastard and to get back to work!
edit 3:15 So I’m walking up the stairs in the house and it suddenly dawns on me that something is different. I’m going up the stairs in normal fashion! Completely absent mindedly!
Lookin’ Up
This recovery shit goes much better when the knee isn’t full of infection. I’m limbering up. I’m even doing some walking without a cane. And today I tied my own shoes! And perking up. Lot’s of work ahead though.
There will be a big celebration when I make my first complete rotation on the stationary bike. So far it’s about 260 degrees forward and 260 back.
Better
Better attitude. Less pain. Working hard at getting range of motion back… ouch. Six hours a day in a leg bending machine, so getting lots of reading done.
My wife is truely an angel of mercy and I may be the luckiest man in the world that I found her and that she’s stuck by me for almost 30 years, some of it not so good. She is my true soul mate.
Set Back
Big set back. Infection. Saturday back in hospital. Opened it back up and cleaned it out. I’m on a 6 week course of intervienous antibiotics. Hell.
Hellish night last night.
ouch
Yesterday was a great day. Very little pain, great progress on the exercises, and lots of walking. After lunch I took my pills and (2 Percocet) with the intention of letting them come on for about fifteen minutes and then doing my work out. But instead I sat down in my chair and passed out for an hour and a half. So I made the mistake of thinking that I could cut my pills back to every 6 hours. After all I wasn’t in much pain and I was making great progress. Wrong. Today I’m paying a very heavy price and hoping I can get back ahead of the pain curve.
Staples removed
I’m using a cane now and last night I actually slept through one of my percocet doses. Today I actually bent my knee 91 degrees! The goal is 115-120 so I have a lot of work, but I started at 50 so I’m feeling pretty good about it.
Becky and I are playing out our nurse-patient fantasies. Except I always thought she was the one that was supposed to wear the white nylons!
Post-Op
Ouch! The first two or three days involved some major pain, much of it self inflicted. Or inflicted by thy physical therapists. It’s for your own good, son. But I have good drugs, percocets and they encourage you to take them so you can get through the amazing pain the first time you try to bend your leg. Percocet dreams are strange. It’s been like this infinite line of people conjured from my imagination walking past and saying wierd things to me, and I’m never quite sure if I’m awake or asleep.
Something fucked up the first night in the hospital, I think they overdosed me on the iv drip narcotic. I’m not clear on what happened because I was SOOOO out of it, but I know there were a lot of people in the room yelling at me to keep my eyes open and wake up and to stay with us. They’ve been pretty straight forward about it since, but haven’t really said how much danger I was in or exactly how it happened.
I came home from the hospital on Thursday and Becky has been nursing me back to health. I can walk (a little) without crutches and can already bend my leg more than I could before surgery. Needless to say all those ligaments need to be stretched out since they haven’t had to lengthen to that extent in decades. It’s a process. But I’m glad I did it.
I might have had a different answer on Wednesday.