The surgery was successful, meaning that I am a miserable wretch with an 8” incision in my knee and a memory of 4 very unfun days in the hospital.
They had me standing and staggering to a commode 5 hrs after surgery…not for the faint-hearted.
The surgeon, in addition to being an excellent surgeon, is very personable and cute enough for a screen test…deep blue eyes and dimples.
Sadly, I had morphine only once and not nearly enough to get even the mildest buzz on. The other meds are there to keep my noise level down from a shriek to a gentle moan.
I am in rehab now. The tray on wheels where I keep everything important does not have a rim, so when I reach for the grabbers to help me pick up things, they fall on the floor. The male architect forgot to have any shelves installed in the bathroom.
The physical and occupational therapists are the spawn of Quasimodo. “Bend your knee as far as you can,” the PT woman says.” “OK, it hurts? Good.Push just a little more.”
So, the good news is that in three weeks this will be just a memory.
The bad news is that today is three weeks away from the good news.
Send funny jokes and anecdotes, please.
Milo has already forgotten me and is spending the night in my daughter’s bed.
Love to all, Gail