Chickenminnie’s Weblog

My last visit with Dr. D’Ascoli was this week and while I was sitting in the waiting room I thought about my surgeon grandfather talking about how pissed off he would get when he had a patient who he knew would have a bad outcome when they walked into his office. These were generally overweight, sedentary people who for any number of reasons would not fare as well as a fit person post-surgically,  and he hated operating on them. It made me constantly aware of how difficult it must be as a doctor to operate on someone who could potentially make you look bad. Dr. D seemed genuinely pleased at my progress and it made me feel like I had held up my end of the doctor-patient bargain: he promised to do a good job and in return I did everything I was told and had an amazing outcome by going into it as fit and as educated as possible.

There are still some numb areas, stairs remind me how weak the surrounding musculature is and the knee joint occasionally gets away from me. There is a tendency to limp when I am tired, but the cane was cast away several days ahead of six weeks and I’m not going back.  It is such a miracle to be without the remembered knee pain that I am still startled by it; I had lived with pain for so long and been so conditioned to react to it that it seemed like a miracle to have it disappear.

Now all I want to do is walk! I get up from my desk several times a day and take little movement breaks to keep from getting too stiff; I revel in it every single time. I no longer care in the least about finding a close parking spot and have returned to my customary habit of parking away from the idiots who care little about dinging my doors. Walking feels like a delicious luxury and I have had to watch out for overdoing it which leaves me with a throbbing, achey leg.

I’m incredibly grateful for an amazing doctor and incredible friends and family who were rooting for me…especially Mike who unflinchingly endured my pain and meltdowns with his perpetually positive and gentle nature.  He took care of snow removal, litter box cleaning and grocery fetching without a single complaint and I could not have done it without him. Thank you, Mike.

This morning after my shower I was contemplating what to wear and was dreading the thought of donning yet another pair of “comfy” pants; the yoga pants and stretch pants I had hoarded for post-surgery garb made nice loungewear, but wearing them in public has been a miniature nightmare for me. Nothing says “I give up” quite like wearing loungewear at the grocery store. And don’t get me started on how the average college student comes to class.

Anyway, I decided to give my jeans another try after a crushing defeat the week before which saw me getting my pant leg on about six inches short of what it needed to be. Even my stretchier jeans would have rendered the fabric too tight over the incision to be very comfortable so I put them away in disgust. This morning’s attempt seemed much more promising after Joan’s assertion yesterday that the majority of my swelling was gone, and indeed the pants felt fine after easing them over the few remaining steri-strips that refused to budge. The ten pounds I lost since surgery made things even better and it was just the sort of boost I have desperately needed after a week of frustration.

Once again I am reminded of how recovery is crafted of small victories and milestones, some of them painfully gradual in coming. It has reminded me to slow down, practice patience and be grateful for the dopey little things I previously took for granted.