A Leg to Stand On

 

I've kind of known, deep down, that the day would come. And I wanted absolutely no parts of it.

But we have a family trip planned for this summer, and as we slogged through January, I came to realize that my then current left  knee wasn't up to the task. My primary physician recommended an orthopod who, it turns out, had replaced three knees among two of my Circle sisters. So, mindful that time was running low and surgery was hard to schedule, when I saw Dr. Knee on 1/31 and he mentioned having just received a cancellation for March 11, all hesitation flew out the window.

The next weeks were filled with many kinds of preoperative appointments and tests, as well as physical therapy. And then came March 11. I have to say that literally every medical professional I've encountered during all of this has been splendid, caring, supportive, and very good at explaining.

I had a bit of a rocky beginning, with some unpleasant reactions to pain management and to anesthesia; I stayed over one night and came home the next afternoon. Outpatient PT has begun (and it's hard), Joe has done his best Florence Nightingale impersonation, and poor Lizzy is still convinced that the walker is an enemy who clearly has entrapped me and that she is the likely next victim. Family and friends have been lovely and my pastor will never know how much it meant when I opened my eyes that night and found him settling into the chair beside my hospital bed. Floral tributes have arrived, equipment has been loaned, my chef neighbor showed up with glorious things to sample. So I'm in good hands and through the first very, very terrible week. My personal cheerleader (my daughter's mother-in-law) has sent carefully timed emails, texts and cards, painting what has been a very realistic picture of my process. My recliner and ice packs are my new BFFs.

So that's my story, guilty as charged, looking forward to having a leg to stand on once again.