First week of May, Sweetie had a knee replacement.
She'd been in pain for about 4 years, starting when she had some arthroscopic surgery to trim cartilage. I myself am convinced that this whole mess began because she was not given physical therapy after this first knee. She then favored that knee until the second was wrecked, needing similar arthroscopic surgery. PT was prescribed this time, but she know used the repaired but not corrected first knee in favor of the second, re-wrecking the first. The second knee followed up with falling apart, a few years of treatment, cortisone, a distinctly woo-pitching chiropractor, and ending with ridiculous pain in both and a need for pain killers to go buy bread. Back to the knee replacement.
So, they vegematicized her left knee. Or right. I can tell compass directions easily, left and right floozlify me. A week in the hospital, home. We had her parents here to help, get her to PT, help her with exercises, getting in and out of bed. She's a great lady, braver than I, she did very well. (In-laws only drove me to rage a half a dozen times, only drove me to homicidal rage once. I appreciate their help, but goddammit.) She did so well that she asked if she could push the schedule on her second knee up, from late 2015 to late June. We discussed the matter - I was all for the next surgery with one big caveat: all she could do in the meeting with the orthopedist was ask. She could not sell him on it, he had to be entirely on board on his own.
So, June 17 she had a knee replacement. Right knee, now. Fuckin' A bubba, she is so much braver than I. Surgery went well, but this time, for both practical reasons (not wanting to wreck the first knee healing the second) and for other practical reasons (I generally genuinely like my in-laws and can't afford the quicklime or shallow grave, the inevitable results of another 3 week stay), she went to transitional care/therapy. Again, she performed like a champ, and came home on, well, shucks, the symbolism gives me a crick in my stuff, Independence Day. Doesn't mean independence, per se, I have been helping her, accompanying her. We have basically spent the last few days alone in the house, couch and bed, bullshitting, loving pets, eating too well, it has been, with it's own medical stresses, a wonderful weekend. There's a recovery ahead of us still, but I am a very happy paleo!
I have had to fight the fishing gods to make my boat obey my commands, but have been out a few times. I still either have to fix a trolling motor, or put a rope on it and use it as an anchor.
|19" Largemouth. And character from 'The Wall'|
The dog, Jaxson, is 65# of cool. Also bloody insane. Possibly possessed.
NEVERTHELESS, MY WIFE IS HOME. I am so happy I could dance! (Well, step dance. Non-functional left arm.) I will not complain! That's for the next post.