Surgery Day +3: The Recovery Routine

Sunday, May 26

Last night’s shower rates right up there as one of the best experiences of my life.  Thank heavens for the shower stool that allowed me to sit and let the water run over me for as long as I could remain upright.  (Actually, the thanks belongs to Doug, who loaned me his shower stool from his previous two knee replacements.)  Thank heavens for the waterproof dressing that allows me this blessing. What a phenomenally wonderful feeling.  Showers are, I have long said, one of the most underrated gifts from God on this earth.

But the Betadine that stains my legs from crotch to toes will not come off.  No amount of scrubbing, rubbing, soaping, rinsing, and repeating does a bit of good.  Oh boy.  I may have a permanent (and uneven) orange tan on my left leg for the remainder of my days.

It's my first really good look at the incision and overall swelling and condition of that knee, and, as you can see, it is more than gnarly.  The horizontal markings?  No idea.  We're hoping to get an answer when we see the doc next time.  In the meantime, the goal is to get the swelling to go down as quickly as possible and - oh please - to get that darn Betadine scrubbed off.

Equally vexing first thing in the morning is putting the *&^%@ TED anti-embolism stockings on.  I mean, really, how hard can it be to put on a pair of stockings?  Well, the answer is:  unimaginably hard!  Ed is there to help, and he gets the first one - on my good leg - started.  I bend over to help, and in doing so I tweak my back.  ARRRRGGGGHHH.  Really, God?  Really, with all the pain I’m already in, you think it’s necessary to send me a new, nearly debilitating one?  My good mood from being home dissipates while we try to get the second stocking on without doing extra damage.

After getting dressed and doing my first round of PT for the day (three exercises, 3 sets of ten reps each), I make my way down our stairs - something far easier than I had anticipated, and thank God for that small favor.  Something outside catches the corner of my eye, and I turn to see a hummingbird at one of our feeders - the first of the season for me - and just the thing to make me happy again.

Then the day continues into what will become my routine for the foreseeable future:  a light breakfast, pain meds, short walk outside (with walker, of course), inside to elevate and ice (and maybe a little nap), PT round #2, light lunch, more pain meds, short walk, elevate and ice, read or watch a little TV, another short walk, PT round 3, elevate and ice, dinner, evening meds, and finally, back up the stairs for sleep.

Recovery, it turns out, is going to be a full time job.