Knees can be creepers. In my case, they are for sure. The right one crept up slowly but surely into the intolerable range and four years ago, we severed our lifelong connection. I have never regretted it.
The left knee kept a fairly low profile until sometime this past winter. Being on top of things like this, I decided I better go see my friendly Orthopaedic Surgeon in May (in Iowa, sometimes that is still winter). That dang knee not only crept up on me, but it grabbed me from behind and kicked my not insubstantial butt.
I am now a knee orphan. I have 2 step knees. Don't laugh. It was a really big deal to realise that I was not going to have that original equipment anymore. I thought it was kind of sad.
|My special gripper socks.|
Because I had ankle reconstruction done last summer, I forgot some of the fun stuff about having a TKR (Total Knee Replacement).
You have to go to Joint Boot Camp. You get to learn all about what will happen, what rehab will be like and how to breath into a little handheld machine thing with a smiley face on it.
You have to have blood work done and a urinalysis and a heart thingy (can't remember the name of it, sorry) and a physical.
You have a lot of stuff to get accomplished before you have surgery. In my case, I had to clean (a lot), finish a couple of projects, clean the basement from construction, organize and get rid of stuff and freeze a bunch of in season fruit.
You have to make arrangements for the first couple of weeks post op. I am now ensconced on the first floor in Alaska Girl's old room. I have some makeup, clothes, jewelry and art supplies. I have TV trays for bedside tables, 2 computers, my phone and all the peripherals that accompany technology. I have a clear path around the bed.
You have to borrow a walker from your parents. Enough said.
|The socks go so well with the special hose.|
I forgot about how noisy a hospital is. I couldn't wait to get home and get some sleep.
Pain. You don't exactly forget about pain, but the severity of it is definitely fuzzy around the edges. I never felt like I was being stabbed by a sharp knife repeatedly, but I have a sneaking suspicion that they did hit me on the side of the leg several times with a baseball bat.
Swelling. I forgot about the swelling. At least, I failed to remember the significance of all of that swelling and how on the second or third day you are up every hour peeing like a racehorse. But this helps reduce the swelling, so clanging about with the walker at all hours of the night seems worth it.
|It's kind of sad to have to borrow this|
from your mother.
And last but not least, I forgot about how freaking hard rehab is. It is not fun. But if you don't do it then you won't be able to hike the Grand Canyon in a year or visit your daughter the brewer in a month. I think I am recalling that the first couple of weeks are the worst in that area. I mean, I think that's right,
So for now, those are my memories of TKR. Of course, each surgery is different and this one is already setting itself apart.
In case you are wondering if there are any GOOD memories, there are.
- being waited on
- not having to do dishes
- watching Netflix at all hours of the day and night
- not having to clean for a couple of weeks
- sleeping all of the damn time and nobody cares
- passing out mid sentence after you take the good drugs
- the good drugs
|The good drugs.|
|I like this one. Probably because it is no effort at all.|
|I'm guessing I will have better pics in another week. I will hide them so you don't have to look at them.|