Life Goes On

 

Before.  The Vermont house when we bought it.  This is the entryway looking into the living room where I sit on the couch and ice my knee these days.

After.  The Vermont house now.  This is the entryway looking into the living room where I sit on the couch and ice my knee these days.

When I decided I was going to get a new knee I told the PA I wanted to talk to some patients that had had a similar operation.  She thought that was a great idea(to my face).  A few days later I got a call from the person in the office that gets handed the tasks the 'higher ups' would rather blow off.  She told me that it's pretty unlikely that someone would want to talk to me and that I should just go online and google petellafemoral replacement because I would be able to get all the info I needed that way.  I didn't like that answer...would you?...so I called the office again saying I need the referrals they were going to get for me.  In one form or another this went on for a half dozen phone calls over 6 weeks.   I kept leaving very specific messages with the phone person because they won't ever transfer you to the person you should be talking to.  Because I was never called back I assumed my messages weren't getting translated correctly...  so you know what I did?  I wrote and old fashioned letter, put it in an envelop with a stamp and mailed it.  The next day I had more referrals than I wanted.  I pretty much had their data base.

So then today...I won't get into the ambulance and the emergency room story....but I ended up getting my knee drained again by the person I told you about that promised me the referrals then handed the task to the person that thinks google is magic.   The draining usually goes better than it did today and when I got home I called the office to ask why there was a bruised egg-sized lump that was bleeding on the outside of my knee that had never been there before and should I be concerned.  Lisa, the phone person, said Leah (the knee drainer) was with a patient but she would have her call me.  A half hour later Lisa (note, not Leah) called back basically telling me to 'take two aspirin and call me in the morning' (except she meant 'don't call me in the morning').  I asked Lisa several questions, none of which she was able to answer except when I asked her what her position was there at the office and she told me she was a scheduler.
 
Yesterday I rode the bike trainer with one leg for 70 minutes which I'm sure that is going to have it's own set of problems before long.  I watch old  'curb your enthusiasm-s' for a distraction and once as I momentarily drifted back into reality, I realized I wasn't even peddling so the 70 minutes was probably more like 20.

Today is another couch day.  A divot has settled into the couch that is only going to get bigger and more embarrassing.  I think I'll be able to finish our Christmas card ( a month late...not eleven months early) which is something I wouldn't have been able to do without my forced rest. 

Picture this.  Me on the couch and Vince two feet behind me swearing at inanimate objects and plastering the chimney.  Then two days later and two feet behind and to my right, he rips out a door, studs out the wall, sheet-rocks, paints. 

"Excuse me.  I'm trying to relax here...."

I'm babbling.

Weak In The Knees, To Say The Least

My knee.  I must have really stretchy skin.

Yesterday I had a surgical consult with Dr. Huber.  We both knew it was just a matter of time before I scheduled a day for him to take out my old knee and put in a new one.  Gives me the creeps.  Looks like I am a candidate for a patellofemoral replacement often referred to as a 'partial' in knee replacement converstions. The knee has three compartments and it appears that only one of mine is totally trashed so that will be the one he replaces.  Even though a 'partial' sounds less creepy, they still go in and take out part of my knee.   Ick.

"He has some time March 12,"  office person Amanda said.
"I'll take it,"  I said.

The consult was productive.  He was able to answer all of my questions.  I'd prepared myself by contacting five of his previous patients before I went in and everyone was happy.  One ran a marathon this summer.

Most skiers would wait until the end of the season for the operation but since I can't ski anyway,  I'm doing it now.

When I say I can't ski, it's not entirely true.  I can double-pole on the flats.  I always wear my down jacket because I can't go hard enough to sweat.  Yesterday I felt cocky and skied the 3 km man-made loop a few times.  It's not really fun...at least it wasn't yesterday when it was 5 degrees.  I have my bike on a trainer and spin once in a while.  Last time I did that was Sunday, and Monday was '10 on the pain scale' day so the bike may not be a good idea.

Of course I'm not the first person in the world to go through a surgery like this but I feel like I am.


Good News.
The doc wrote me a prescription for an anti-inflammatory called meloxicam.  (I can never tell if an anti-inflammatory works or not but whatever) I looked it up and it's pretty much what we give our dog Max when he's stiff.  He responds to it really well...almost immediately...and I've always said that I wish there was a human version.  Bingo!