April 30, 2012 My View

For the past 3 weeks, I have spent hours looking at this book case.  When I am groaning through my exercises, I look at the books on these shelves and I'm transported away from my bed in Wamego where CB is counting to 10 too damn slow.

Here's what's in the bookcase other than books:  my dad's Stetson, the blocks in memory of Maxine (Luke's $7 dog), the flag from Dad's casket, coffee mugs from Dad's time in the legislature and various other bits of flotsam and jetsam.

This particular shelf makes me think of my Dad.  Every book represents something about Dad that I hold dear.  There are books about historical and political figures like Harry Truman, there are books about Colorado ghost towns (my dad LOVED to drive his Jeep around Colorado and flirt with death), there is "Bleak House" by Charles Dickens which Dad insisted that I read (and which I am still trying to...it's on my Kindle, so that's a start.  Right?), there are books by Shakespeare given to my dad by his dad, and there are books about World War 2.

I'm not sure I mentioned that Dad had 5 total hip replacements and 1 total knee replacement during the course of his life.  He is my inspiration as I am grunting and groaning and trying to throw up as I do my rehab.

Every time I look at these books, I think of him and he's not so very far away.

Pretty cool, huh.

April 29, 2012 OCD Luke Style

Tonight, Luke wanted pasta salad with supper.  I was sitting in the living room, letting him do his thing.  After all, he's an adult, he doesn't need me to supervise him in the kitchen (unless he's doing one of those "let's see what happens if..." experiments).

I kept hearing noises that didn't go along with making pasta salad - like dry pasta being put first in one bowl then another.  It sounded strange, but one thing I've learned as Luke's mom is to mostly ignore strange sounds.

Luke started laughing and asked it I wanted to know what was going on.  I figured it was a trick question, so I bit.

It seems that Luke doesn't like peas in his pasta salad.

Instead of eating around them, he picks them out.  Before cooking them. 

Before you know it, you have plain pasta for your pasta salad.

And you don't have to eat around the peas.

April 28, 2012 In the Kitchen with CB

CB loves to cook breakfast.

I love to eat breakfast.

It's a match made in heaven, if I do say so myself.

While CB might prefer going to to breakfast and not having to stand over a hot stove, he doesn't mind having kitchen duty once in a while.

On the menu this morning:  bacon, eggs, biscuits, orange juice and coffee.  It was twelve kinds of yummy.

Even Buddy got an egg so he was happy, too.

Let's go down Memory Lane for a minute, shall we?  When I was growing up, my mom cooked a full breakfast every morning before school.  None of that cold cereal business for the Smith kids.  Sometimes Mom would try to mix it up and have a Sara Lee coffee cake but we preferred our bacon and eggs.  In my mind, I would wake up, put on my jeans and whatever t-shirt was handy, run a brush in the general vicinity of my hair, go downstairs, eat breakfast and head out the door to walk to school.

It couldn't have been that easy, could it?

I am not going to ask my mom.  I'm just going to pretend it was that easy.

April 27, 2012 It's My 55th Birthday!

My first outing!  Breakfast at Bob's Diner for my birthday.  It was fun to get out and do something that regular people do.  And, you all know I'm nothing if not regular.  Thank you, Ducolac.  But, I digress.

When we were on the way home, CB said he needed to make a quick stop.  As soon as he passed the two turns which would take us to Wamego, I knew where we were headed.  CB had ordered a dozen long stemmed red roses for me for my birthday and we went to pick them up.  As you can see, they are magnificent.

This evening, Momma brought cupcakes and ice cream over. Baby and her husband came too (Baby's husband was particularly glad to see me seated as opposed to lying on the floor in a pool of my own urine).  We laughed and laughed like only a family can. 

I must tell you that there were several points during the evening that I thought Baby was going to end up on the floor, she was laughing so hard.

Oh yeah, on the floor, with wet pants.

She is her sister's sister.

It was a great birthday!

April 26, 2012 Proof

I have walked so many miles that I wore through the tennis balls on the bottom of my walker.  Right, it's not enough that I own (and use) a walker.  The frosting on the cake is that the walker I own and use has bright tennis balls on the legs.

Can you see CB's shirt in this picture?  It was from the 5th annual Tribunal (aptly entitled "
BullShit on the Beach") and the motto of the weekend was "Relax Yo' Ass".  I think that motto is a good one to keep in mind around here.

Especially when I get a bit wound up about something.  Not that it happens very often.

I suppose it depends on your definition of "very often".

Doesn't matter: Relax Yo' Ass is a good thing to do.

April 25, 2012 PT

Here is where I go 3 times a week for  physical therapy.  It hurts.  I cry.  I sweat.  I swear.

PT: It's all about me.

If I have a good PT session, I get ice cream.

My world is pretty small right now.  Home, exercise, PT, shower.  Rinse and repeat.

April 24, 2012 Quilting

Today was the day Momma and Baby came over to help me make a strip quilt.  Momma brought her sewing machine and Baby brought several bags of quilting stuff and we were off.

I started sewing these beautiful strips of material together.  Baby and Momma kept saying "keep the right sides together" but since I couldn't tell which was the right side and which was the wrong side so I just started sewing.  I got in a zone.

But then the sewing machine started acting up and the thread kept breaking.  Baby took over for a bit and Momma started pressing the seams.

And, then all hell broke loose.  

Apparently, if you aren't careful about sewing the right sides together, the seams don't all end up going the same way.  Having all the seams on one side is very important.

I was not, as previous stated, very careful.  I was, in fact, very careless.

So, Momma and Baby had to rip out a lot of of the seams I sewed while I was in the aforementioned sewing zone.

Crap on a cracker.

They were very gracious about it, but  I can tell you for sure that if I weren't crippled the ripping out scene would not have been quite so idyllic,.

Shortly after the ripping and repairing took place, we called it a day.

Second quilting class has yet to be scheduled.

April 23, 2012 Big Day

Here it is!

What you can't see (and you should consider yourself very lucky) is the hair on my legs that made removal of the waterproof bandage hurt like hell.  Like.  Hell. On. Steroids.

My regular doctor (well, actually, I don't know if he's regular or not.  I can only assume.  He's usually in a really good mood and I don't think someone constipated would be that happy.) took the stitches out and it was anticlimactic.  After having the bandage rip out all those little hairs, I'm not sure I would have noticed anything.

I told my doctor about this blog and he wanted the address.  I told him that it wouldn't take too long before I offended him, but I gave it to him anyway.  He knows I'm a left wing crazy liberal so I'm not sure anything he reads here will be too surprising.

Having said that, however, very often I'M surprised by what I read here!  We'll see how long it takes before the Good Doctor files some kind of "Please Let Me Give This Crazy Woman Up As A Patient" document.

One thing, I'm good for laughs.

Some days that's the best you can hope for.

April 22, 2012 Instruments of Torture. Don't Tell Dick Cheney

A tea towel and a bath towel.

What harm can come from these benign items?

I'll tell you what harm can come and I'll try not to scream.

CB takes the tea towel, puts it under my heal and demands that I lift my heel off the bed.  TEN times.  Then another ten.  Twice a day.  Oh, and there are TWO kinds of tea towel/leg lift exercises.  Damn.

Then, the towel gets rolled up and put under my knee for  a series of horrible stretches then moved to my ankle for 2 minutes of "let gravity do it's thing" stretching.  TWICE.

Back in the day, CB couldn't stand to see me cry.  He would melt and ask me what was it he could do to make me stop crying.  It broke his heart to see me cry.

That.  Day. Is. Gone.  Long. Gone.

Now when I cry doing these exercises, he tells me to suck it up, that we are in a marathon, not a sprint, that we must do these exercises to get better.  All of this is fine and dandy, but I'M the one doing all the work.  CB is counting to ten, over and over and over again.

All kidding aside, CB has been the best trainer and cheerleader.  Between he and Luke, failure is not an option.

And, no pity parties allowed.

Lots of hugs, which is exactly what I need.

They're pretty smart guys.

April 20, 2012 Headed Back to What Passes as Normal

CB had to go to a visitation this evening for a co-worker who was killed in a car accident.  It was very sad and I felt sorry that I couldn't go with him.  I'm not sure my albino white hairy legs would have been appropriate for the funeral home.  Shit, they aren't even appropriate for my own home.

Before CB left, I wanted a photo of the two of us as proof that we haven't killed each other.  Yet.

I love the shirt I'm wearing here.  Property of Stormont -Vail Total Joint Center.   I try not to wear it on days that I cry, only on days when I'm feeling strong.

I've worn it once.

April 19, 2012 Finallly, Something to Tell

Here's my nest. I like having a bed in the living room so much, it may stay there forever. Curtis, if you are reading this, I'm only kidding. If Curtis doesn't read this, I am totally NOT kidding!

The gigantic pink fuzzy pillow has made my life worth living during the past week. It elevates my leg to the proper height and it's soft.

The first day I was in this bed in this location, I spied several books I thought would be nice to peruse. So, I got my long handled grabber device (without safety goggles) and started pulling books off the shelves. I got pretty good at it because CB walked in and I had about 7 books scattered around me. He was not amused, but I was completely entertained. I can say without regret that none of the books I pulled off the shelf were any of the Kansas statutes (the burgundy and blue books on the bottom shelf). I'm not that bored. yet.

By putting one hand on the wooden stool and the other on the side table, I can get out of bed alone. It's still more fun to ask CB for help because when he lifts me, his arms are around me and I curl into him which feels very safe. And usually he smells really, really nice.

In the mail today was a large envelope from Kansas State University. Enclosed was a nice note from Dr. Pat Bosco and this Powercat cut out to encourage me on my healing journey. The Powercat will remain in place until I can do 3 things: ditch the walker; go upstairs; and have a 90 decree bend in my knee.

I'll keep you posted on the progress. Powercats are tough and so am I!














This poor chair is just like me. It has a bad leg. It started out today with good legs. Four good legs. Four reasonably sturdy legs.

This chair is on loan to me from my mom. It was my brother's at one point and, since it has arms, it was perfect for me at the supper table.

Until today. At 12:20. CB was in the garage getting a splash of milk for his potato soup. I was minding my own business, eating a piece of pizza when I decided to scoot up a bit closer to the table.

Bad idea. In hindsight, not a good idea at all.

One second I'm scooting, then the next second I'm on the ground, flat on my back, yelling for help.

About 10 seconds (it seemed like longer) later, CB was by my side, checking to see if I was okay. And by "okay", I mean bleeding. I was fine. No head bump even.

But we were faced with a problem: how to get me upright. I was not going to be any help at all. I didn't want CB lifting me alone. I weigh more than I should - remember my surgeon so graciously reminded me of that fact a little over a week ago.

CB said he could lift me but after some discussion, we agreed to call my brother in law, Jay, who came right over and with minimal effort, hoisted my ass up off the floor and on to a waiting chair.

All was well.

Almost.

What I didn't mention is that when I hit the floor, I wet my pants. Yes. Indeed. I. Did.

The hits just keep on comin'.

April 18, 2012 Are. You. Kidding. Me?

Look closely, this label tells you to wear safety goggles when using this equipment.

This equipment that is so dangerous as to require safety goggles is my grabber. You know, the long handled thing that helps me to pick up whatever it is I need off the floor.

So far, I have not had to pick up any live hand grenades or rabid vermin so I've not put on my safety goggles.

Curtis, being the safety minded member of the family, had a pair in the garage and has promised to loan them to me should the need arise.

You know, you can never be too careful when picking up socks. Especially MY post PT, pre shower socks. Those toxic bad boys could do some damage.

Maybe I better look into the goggle thing.

If I do, I promise there will be a picture!

I'm Baaaack! So Sorry for the Delay in Laughs

Not to bore you with details but, surgery is over and new knee is in place.  Or that's what they tell me.  Leg hurts like hell not as much as it did preop, though.  Can't bend the damn thing without wanting to puke.  How's that for a visual?

Here are some thoughts from the last 10 days:

A girl's best friend through out a traumatic surgery is stool softener.  You might think it's her husband (who has been amazing beyond words) or pain medication (that, too, has been wonderfully pleasant) or the fact that I'm pretty much having my every need attended to.

Well, not my EVERY need, thus the need for a stool softener.

 I can face every morning with confidence!

CB took me for a walk a couple of nights ago.  I think the leash was a joke. 

In my walker basket I have beer.  Just in case I got too close to the downhill slope in front of the house and took off. 

This was my room at Stormont Vail Hospital.  If you are in the market for a joint replacement, Stormont Vail is the place for you.  EVERYONE, without exception, was wonderful.  Even the people who took my food order over the phone and never met me or would ever meet me, were polite and pleasant and laughed at my sense of humor.

I had 2 shifts of nursing care staff:  day (7 a.m. to 7 p.m.) and night (7 p.m. to 7 a.m.).  Over the next several days I well tell you all about them, but for now, lift them up in your hearts because the job they do day after day and night after night, is nothing short of heroic. 

Here's something to think about:  I went to the hospital totally hydrated as I was asked.  Then, over the course of 12 hours they pumped me full of fluids, huge bags of fluids.  Where, I wondered, was all that fluid going to go?  Where, indeed.

That's what bedpans are for.

Oh. My. God.

I became very good friends with the nursing staff very, very quickly.  Later I was told that I was the best pee'er in the place.  My skills with the bedpan left something to be desired, but that's why there's a laundry department, right?

Here's the hallway I would "walk" as many times a day as I could.  It seemed like a long distance - - and it was for a post op, overweight, one legged woman!

This is me.  Trying to put on a brave face before heading home.  I was, if the truth be told, quite nervous.

So, now I'm back.  I'll try to begin to post daily again.

I must remember to tell you why I called my doctor a "son of a bitch" right before surgery.  Before drugs, too. 

And he is. 



April 7, 2012 Drunk Dialing

I got new pain medication today.  Tuesday seems like a long way off when I can't get my pain under control.

Anyway, I took some of said medication and relaxed while it went to work. And to work it went!  In spades.

For some reason, known only to me, I decided to call my mother.

I thought our conversation was hilarious.  My mom, on the other hand, kept asking "Are you stoned?"

Which I was.
A mother never loses her intuition!

April 6, 2012 Command Center

It's official.  I am now the guest using the guest room.

And I hate it!

In addition to counting the days until my surgery (2), until my PT starts (8), until I can walk without a walker (16),  until I can get through a day without pain medication (unknown), I am also counting the days/nights until I can sleep in my waterbed with my husband.

And dog.

April 5, 2012 Graduation Day

Today I graduated.

From a cane to a walker.

I even had to go to court.

Using a walker.

It sucked.

But this time next week,  I'll  be tap dancing.

Oh.  Yes.  I.  Will.

It will be slow.  But it will be dancing.

April 4, 2012 Elementary? Seriously?

Luke was helping me move some furniture in the guest room and he had to shift some books.  One of the books was this.

"Differential Equasions Textbook", I get.

"Elementary", I don't get.

I asked Luke what exactly was elementary about differential equasions.

He said "nothing".

I'm back to not getting it.

April 3, 2012 Spring Showers

I love spring rains.  Even when I forget to shut the window and it rains in.

There is nothing better than a rainy day, a good book and a warm dog.

I had all three AND some pretty strong pain medication.

Which means that I don't remember much about the book.

And my knee still hurts.

April 2, 2012 For My Wonderful Hindu Friends

My dear Hindu friends, do you think I should enroll in this class?  Do you think it will stop the many questions I ask you at every opportunity?  Had I taken this class before Priya's wedding, do you think I would still have needed the instruction manual which was provided prior to the ceremony?

When Kimber and I spent a week in London celebrating Priya's wedding, we were immersed in the Hindu culture from dawn until dusk (and late into the night!).   That's how to learn about people: live with them, dress like them (I LOVE wearing a sari), eat like them, dance with them! 

Before enrolling in Hindi 101, I need to know if every class begins with a cup of chai tea and if we will learn how to make all the goodies Kimber and I had while staying with Massi (a Hindu word which means "my mother's sister").  If both of the answers were in the affirmative, I'd enroll in a moment and so would Kimber.

And she lives in Atlanta!

Miss you, my friends in London and my lovely daughter in Australia.

Namaste.

If you care, here's the link to the blog we wrote while in London at Priya's wedding. 
http://kimberandsarahtrip.blogspot.com/

April 1, 2012 Fifteen Months, No Joke

This is the first day of the 15th month of this blog.  Damn, it's lasted nearly as long as my first marriage.  There have been 1,671 page views so far this year.  Only 1,500 of them have been mine. 

I promised a picture of the tulips in the park when they bloomed.  Today was the day.  This picture do not begin to do them justice, either.  Wamego is bursting at the seams with tulips and lilacs.

Speaking of lilacs, while our neighbors were at church, I cut some lilacs off the bush we share in the front yard.  My house smells GREAT!!!  And I am not nearly as sorry as I should be for stealing them.

Had dinner tonight with my favorite dining companion, Rob.  We hadn't seen each other for way too long.  He keeps up with me by way of this blog, which could be troubling except that Rob knows not to believe everything I write. 

I have no idea why that is.

March 31, 2012 Ryan Strikes Again!

Thank goodness for Luke and his friend, Ryan.  (Ryan's claim to fame to date was helping Luke repair the sliding shelves in the kitchen.)

This morning Luke and I went shopping in Manhattan (Luke like nothing better than taking his momma shopping on a Saturday morning.  Just. Ask. Him.).  We had to get all the necessary accoutrements to make our house ready for a one legged woman to come home to in about a week.

Ryan took care of installing the grab bars in the downstairs bathroom.  Makes me feel like I'm using the toilet at Target or some other local handicapped accessible business.  All it cost me was a batch of chocolate chip cookies. 

Did I mention several weeks ago that this blog was NOT going to become a blog about my surgery?

Yeah, I know I did.

And, yeah, I know it has.

I'll try to do better.