New Year, New Knee! (Part 1)

Twelve days ago, I had knee replacement surgery, the most major surgery I've ever had.  I still have all my original equipment, except for one tooth (yes, I have ALL my wisdom teeth, thankyouverymuch) and my gall bladder.  Tonsils, appendix, spleen, and adenoids present and accounted for.  I had two tendons in my right hand reattached a couple of years ago after The Nasty Cat bit me.  The only other times I've spent the night in the hospital were when the kids arrived.

It has been an experience.

My knee had been incrementally curtailing my normal activities.  Walking more than a mile at a stretch was out of the question.  Don't even talk to me about running.  Ugh.  Scrambling around on the sailboat was nerve wracking.

Finally, late last summer, I stood up from a picnic table, and the knee betrayed me.  It refused to hold me up.  So, off to the doctor.  X-rays taken, surgeon visited, physical therapy evaluation performed, surgery scheduled, cortisone injection administered.  RELIEF!  I did my prescribed pre-op exercises.

Then the pain returned.

I REALLY started looking forward to surgery.

Things got interesting (and busy).  I visited the cardiologist and attended a joint replacement class.  I went to a pre-op appointment with my family physician.  I went to the hospital for pre-registration and a pre-surgical visit with an anesthesiologist, who performed a crazy procedure called "cryoneurolysis" on a couple of nerves around my knee.  He located the nerves using ultrasound, then used a probe to actually FREEZE them in a few places to minimize incision pain for several weeks after the surgery.  What will they think of next???

Everything's about preventing infection, so the night before, I had to take a super antibacterial shower and dry off with clean towels, then sleep in freshly laundered pajamas and sheets.  In the morning, I had to repeat the shower and put on clean clothes.  No breakfast allowed - wah!  We headed to the hospital - VERY early.  I got checked in, taken to pre-op, and handed a bunch of antibacterial wipes - more infection prevention!  Wiped down and got into one of those highly fashionable hospital gowns.  Then into surgery, knocked out, knee replaced, and back out again.  The dressing they put on my incision was impregnated with silver - more infection prevention. 

After surgery, it's about managing pain and swelling, and getting up and moving around.  I got up to walk a little - with supervision, of course.  I did pretty well that first day, but when they got me up to walk, I got lightheaded and had to sit back down.  The second day, I felt pretty good and did physical therapy but still couldn't walk far without getting dizzy.  My blood pressure kept dropping so I couldn't go home.  They had me on oxycodone for the heavy duty pain relief, and it did its job - too well, apparently.  The third day, when I should have gone home for sure, I didn't feel well.  I had no appetite, my brain was foggy, I wanted to sleep all day, and every time I'd get up, my blood pressure again plummeted, plus I started having chest pains.  Ugh.

Long story short, they did a bunch of tests (blood tests, EKGs, and a crazy non-treadmill stress test) and determined my heart was fine.  I had bad heartburn, and oxycodone is not for me.  EVER. 

It is an evil evil evil drug.  Avoid it at all costs.

So they replaced oxycodone with tramodol, and the fourth day I was fine.  No lightheadedness AT ALL.  I had an appetite.  The fog was gone.  The heartburn was gone.  I did my physical therapy.  I went home.  HOME!

Now comes the hard part.

Stay tuned!

Not Very Handy Right Now...

A couple of weeks ago, I had surgery on my right hand.  Why?  Well, it's the aftermath of a cat bite.

Back in mid-May, I was trimming one of the cats' claws, and...RAWR!!!

She got irritated, started up her warning "siren" (which I stupidly ignored), then bit me.

Just look at that sweet face!  Surely she's not capable of such a dastardly deed.

Don't be fooled.  This is the Demon Cat from Hell.

When she came into our home as a kitten, she wasn't well socialized.  She didn't like to be touched or picked up.  She growled and yowled.  She didn't clean her fur very well.  She was Grumpy Cat times ten.  However, after YEARS of work, she can give a good imitation of being somewhat pleasant.  I can no longer sit on our sofa without her immediately taking over my lap.  Of course, it's all on HER terms.

No matter how she pretends, she is NOT a nice cat.  The other cats get out of her way.  She terrifies the dog (the BIG dog).  She sits where a gorilla would sit - wherever she wants.

Anyway, she's not a fan of being handled.  So she bit me.

HARD.

I detached her from my hand, then wrapped her up in a towel and finished the job.

She was NOT going to win.

Long story short, the bite got infected, I went to the emergency room twice, was put on pain killers and two heavy duty antibiotics, lost some movement in one finger (on my right hand), tried occupational therapy (FAIL), then had surgery that repaired two tendons.

Here's how my hand looked afterward.  My whole arm was numb until the end of the next day.  It felt like a telephone pole in its sling, and was about as useful.

I've since graduated to a different, slightly abbreviated splint and bandage.  I have to wear them 24/7 for three weeks - ugh.  At least I can sort of use my fingers.  I get to take it all off once a day and do a little gentle massage.

Meanwhile, I'm working - slowly.  I try to write left handed (oh my - barely legible) and use the computer (hunt and peck).  Getting dressed is an Olympic event.  By the time I have all my clothes on, I feel like I've competed in the decathlon.  And lost.  I'm ready to lie down and take a nap.

I keep telling myself it will be worth it in the long run.

It will.

It really will.

Right?