Update - moving this thread to the Window on Red Lion blog. Too much crazy shit going on to mix my health issues in with 'em.
Well, that was fun...
I was released from the therapy hospital last Wednesday, and stopped off to see the surgeon on the way home. He pulled some of the staples, and I have another appointment next Wednesday for the rest of them. Healing well, take it easy, no strain, etc, etc, etc.
So, why 2 weeks instead of 2 - 3 days?? I'll tell ya.
Apparently, Oxycodone and I do not get along. As you know, I went to college during the late 60s and early 70s. The oxy took me to places that were a) weirder, b) not really fun, and c) where I have no wish to return. It also (apparently) caused my bladder to go off line, so I got to get yet another catheter. I slept most of Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, sleeping and detoxing in a military-industrial Alice in Wonderland sort of world. Seemingly very real, so when I awoke, I would have to remind myself that none of it could have happened, because I was in a hospital room, and had been for a few days.
I got transferred to a rehab hospital for physical and occupational therapies. The night before I left (Monday) as I was taking my evening constitutional around the nurses' station, I saw two people in wheel chairs w/ IVs, and heard someone in the room next to me discussing how people are treated with dignity after death. I then saw the two people in wheel chairs, and one in a hospital bed being moved out. I have a feeling that there was some donor/transplant stuff going on. Next morning, I awoke to a conversation amongst several women just outside my door. It seemed to be about the three individuals, but it had the tone and quality of a Seal Team debriefing. Someone said three words, someone else responded with three words, done.
I wondered a) if they had rappelled into the OR from a Black Hawk, b) if they knew I was in the next room hearing all of this, and c) what my current life expectancy was due to b.
Obviously, I hadn't completely dried out.
Rehab was mostly about making sure I could do things like manage stairs, do all of the things one needs to do in a bathroom, cook, do laundry, and some basic strength and stretch work, within the limited weight and motion restrictions I'm under. And walking. Lots of walking.
So. I seem to be healing up nicely. I've over done a bit here, since I left the house thinking I'd be back in 2 - 3 days, not two weeks. Laundry is done, dishwasher emptied and partially re-loaded. Not expecting company, so not worried about the rest of it.
I'm rejoicing in an almost complete lack of pain for the first time in almost 40 years! The incision itches, the back muscles are sore and achy, but I can walk unaided (I use a cane for assist in balance when necessary, or going up and down stairs). Took the dogs for a walk yesterday, first time in ages (don't ask).
I'm scheduled for out-patient PT starting next week. I have a feeling that this will more about strength, endurance, and range of motion. I tire easily, and that's a bit frustrating.
I want to thank all of you for your prayers and good wishes and thoughts for me. I know that has supported me through this "interesting" time.
I am comfortable, all news is good, and I'm figuring out how I want to live in a house with a basement and three stories.
Thank you all. Blessings upon you and those you hold dear!