A Room With a View

Here's mine.

In case you live under a a rock or aren't my friend on Ravelry, Twitter, or Facebook, since I posted last, I've had my right hip replaced.  I chose something called the anterior procedure and I'm now almost exactly two weeks post surgery.

Today I can go up and down stairs, bending my right leg like a normal person, unassisted, a thing I haven't done since last calendar year.  I can get up and down from chairs reliably, of course, and I can walk nearly without a hobble.  Crutchie is still a constant companion though, because I'm afraid to fall and injure this miraculous thing that is my new hip.

Today, I am also still housebound so as to keep my insurance coverage for the home health care folks who come to do PT and OT and Home Health.  It was major surgery after all, and I kind of like that my vital signs are monitored most days, etc.  I'm here, with this view, until a week from Thursday -- a quirk of the calendar and vacations and husband's travel schedule, I could technically be released from my homebound precautions as of tomorrow if the appointment with my surgeon had worked out.

So.  Here I sit.  Spinning (finally) and listening to books and reading and Tweeting about how if my friends really loved me they'd come over and visit me.  Most of them really do.  Love me that is.

My family and I've had tons of lovely friend-cooked dinners and desserts.  I've had visitors nearly every day and many visitors some days - back to back all day.  They've laughed at my Vicodin induced hazy conversations and bemoaned the fact that they missed them all together.  I am truly blessed.  

Bullets of Hip Surgery Humor:

• I was bemoaning the fact that my surgeon didn't even come talk to me before the operation and how rude that was, when Hubster informed me that I chatted with him for 10 minutes that morning.  So now we know that the stuff they put in your IV an hour before surgery to relax you is a BLACKOUT drug for me.  Sheesh.  I remember nothing except that it wore off just as I got into the operating room and I saw the table they use for the anterior hip replacement procedure.  Yikes.  They shouldn't let you see that thing before they strap you onto it... (I've watched the videos but I won't link to them.  They're graphic and scary and make your stomach hurt.  I'm not an orthopedic surgeon for a reason.  Google them if you want.  Gack.)
• The night I got home from the hospital (two days post operation) I (apparently because I have no memory of this either) thrashed around crabbing that "There's something wrong!" and it was that my foot was tangled up in the sheet and Hubster had to try to wrestle my still ham-like right leg clear before I stopped my whining.  His words.  Gosh.  Tough crowd.
• My fourteen-year-old Dear Son asked last Tuesday (5 days post op -- at least I could feel my right leg by then) if I could drive him and a few of his friends to a movie the next day.  I blinked at him and told him probably not.  Oh, he said, well, we could try to take the bus, I guess...  He's Captain Oblivious.  I'm going to have a cape and tights made for him.
• Physical Therapists are tricksy.  When they tell you to drink at least 96 ounces of water a day, implying that with all that hydration your body will heal faster, what they really mean is that you'll have to get up to go to the bathroom every hour or so and all that walking is what does it.  

I've complete just a little over 8 ounces of spinning, most of which I'm not allowed to blog about until an indie dyer who shall remain nameless says it's ok.  It's this month's fiber club after all, and I was test driving it.  In the photo, you see some Hello Yarn club fiber, a Polworth top, colorway Prism.  It's pretty and sproingy to spin.  

While spinning, I've been listening to the novelized version of the Scottish Play that Audible's been pushing.  It's pretty good.  Gory, of course.   What did I expect?  It focuses on what happens behind the scenes.  No Shakesperean language or even scenes directly from the play, which I was actually hoping for.  Now I'll have to go online and re-read the plot highlights since it's been forever since I studied that play.  

Oh well, something else to occupy my time until I can cajole another friend into dropping by.  ; )

Comments

[Carole]

If I lived close enough I'd come by and bring you pie. Sounds like you've got a great sense of humor about the whole thing and I'm glad you are doing so well.

[Bridgett]

That is tricksy.

I made a cape for Maeve for Christmas, I could give you the pattern.

I like to sit in your living room and drink coffee. The rest of my week is second verse same as the first.

[Joy]

Not a bad view - heal quickly!

[Frida]

gosh, I´ll hurry up and send my best healing vibes your way.
best wishes from Iceland
Frida

[Charade]

I've got time for errands Tue & Wed - you know, grocery store, et al. I'd be happy to pick up anything you need & deliver it to you. Just don't show me any of the gory stuff! Seriously, anything you need?

[CindyCindy]

You sound wonderful and your view is lovely. You'll be up and at 'em soon enough girl. Enjoy the time for spinning and relaxing and healing.