Nothing to do but get better

This morning I drove for the first time!  I drove 5 minutes to the Physical Therapy clinic and then spent another 15 looking for a parking spot. Grrr. I would have preferred to ride my motorbike, but I am nervous about driving it yet.  I think (and several professionals plus the Bear concur) I ought to wait until my muscles are stronger.

Although he doesn't want me to drive the motorbike or swim,  Prof. Palmtree claims that I do not need PT.  However I feel that my muscles are still weaker than they were - than they should be - so PT can only help, right?  Besides I like the therapist at the clinic, who I have worked with in the past.  Since this was my first visit with her post-op (and because I was late due to the parking situation), we didn't do too much today.  The exercises she gave me were fairly easy.  But even so, I still have more discomfort doing the exercises than I do walking - which is virtually painless.  I take that as a sign that my muscles really do need some additional strengthening.

Having said that, I have been walking a lot lately, including walking in the National Park with the Bear.  Nothing feels as good as walking does. I am up to nearly 4 km a day.  Sometimes I walk once but very often twice a day. And I am constantly amazed that I am able to go distances that it's been years since I have managed so easily.

Also in an attempt to be a better blogger, I've been taking some photographs during my walks to share with you.  So here are some interesting things that I've seen along my way.

Cat in a Ramat Gan window looking down at me

 

Cafe in Tel Aviv - but doesn't it look like we could be in Italy?

 

Spying on wedding portraits in the park

End of a good day!

railroad tracks

One of the most difficult things about the surgery and recovery is the incision site.  At the risk of being gruesome, I'll try to write about this. 


Almost immediately after the surgery, I reached my hand down and through the bandages was surprised to feel a long line of railroad track down the side of thigh. Obviously I knew that there would be stitches, but I honestly didn't expect to find the incision site stapled shut.  In addition, I didn't expect it to be so long.  A full 16.5 cm.  All around the site, my leg was swollen and bruised.  So much so that I couldn't visualize where the incision was.  Was it on my thigh?  Did it reach up to my backside?  I don't think I actually saw where it was until later in the week when Prof Palmtree came to put on a pressure bandage and the Bear photographed the occasion. 

The wound was not healing well and so the Professor thought putting on the pressure bandage would help the process.  He basically duct-taped my thigh and butt together. It was terribly confining, making even walking difficult.  The nurses had a challenging time getting it off the following day, taking not a little bit of skin with it. Ouch.  And then Palmtree did it again.  I was not happy but the doctor came back himself on Saturday to remove the bandage the second time and lo and behold, the wound was healed enough for me to be discharged the following day.

Once home, my Aromatherapist (I love saying that!) prepared a special oil consisting of wheatgerm, rosehip and frankincense (and some other secret ingredients), and instructed me to massage it into the wound several times a day.  Shvester sent a homeopathic remedy of Arnica for the bruising, but my Aromatherapist warned that Arnica couldn't be used on an open wound (only for bruising) and also counseled against mixing therapies.  Shvester agreed!  So oil it was.

At first the incision site was fairly numb and I couldn't completely feel anything in that area. The staples themselves were uncomfortable.  But not unbearable.  However as time passed, the wound became less numb, sensation and feeling started to return.  Towards the end of the two week period, I could feel the metal prongs digging into my skin. Running my hand over the wound, I imagined the staples felt like how the jumbo staples we use in my office for large training manuals would feel.


Finally after the initial two week period, Bear arranged for the nurse from Kupat Holim to make a house call to remove the staples.  In fact, I could have walked that far but I was afraid that the removal would hurt and then I'd have to walk back home uncomfortably.  Since the nurse didn't even think I could make it as far as the clinic, she readily agreed to make the house call.

 

Upon her arrival, the nurse stupidly told us that this was only the second time she was doing such a procedure.  She said that usually older patients go to a rehab after the surgery and then have the staples removed there.  What?!  Couldn't she have waited until she was finished to tell us this?  Luckily, it didn't hurt nearly as much I feared.  Really it didn't hurt at all.  Of the 33 staples, I think I felt a pinch maybe 3 or 4 times.  The rest of them I didn't even feel coming out.  Looking at the staples once they were out of my leg, I found it remarkable how small they looked.  Not at all the super sized staples I had imagined.

And what a relief when they came out.  I hadn't realized how much they were bothering me.   Once out, the wound felt liberated.  But so unsightly.  The first day, it looked very raw and there was still a lot of swelling and discoloration all around the area.  I'll spare you and refrain from posting those pictures.


In the last month, we've been very diligent about massaging the oil on the incision site.  Between the Bear and my Mom, and sometimes even L, the scar was massaged and oiled at least twice a day, sometimes more.  The discoloration is now gone although I think that there is still some swelling.  It's hard to tell.  I have  lot of leg. 

I've read that it's important to keep massaging the incision site in order to prevent scar tissue from forming.  The area around is still very hard but the scar definitely looks better and I think eventually, only be a thin line will remain.  Wanna see?

Pretty, right?  OK - but not that bad.  If anyone out there is in the market for a good aromatherapist, let me know & I'll give you her number!

Support System

On several occasions lately, people have called me a hero or said that I was very brave to have taken the plunge and done the THR.  Others have called my progress meteoric and commented on what a strong person I am. Huh?!

While this is all very flattering, it is also somewhat embarrassing; primarily because I disagree.  Saving someone's life makes you a hero.  Jumping into a dangerous situation without thinking of your own personal consequences makes you brave.  And yes, my progress has been fast, partly because I am dedicated to getting well and overcoming this. But what I really have is a very strong support system.

And by support system (for anyone who's been reading along and hasn't noticed), I mean the Bear. Yes, there are others (you guys know who you are!) who have been here for me; but there is simply no way I could have gone through this process so successfully without the Bear.  He takes care of everything so that I can focus solely on getting well.

He's the one who scheduled my first appointment with Prof Palmtree.  He had the apartment set up and ready for my rehab before we began.  He stayed with me every night in the hospital, making sure I ate and took my meds.  He arranged for the ambulance home and then took off another week from work to look after me when I was released from the hospital.  He has cooked, cleaned, laundered, run to the doctor, the pharmacy, the insurance company, bathed, dressed and walked with me every day for the past 6 weeks.  He worries so that I don't have to and smiles every step of the way.

So if I haven't said so, Bear, thank you for being the best care-giver ever. 
Thanks for being you!

Independence Day

This is going to be a short post.  Yesterday I got an A+ from Prof. Palmtree.  Yay! 
My hip is fully functional and I have only a slight limp, which he says will disappear with time.  He also says that any groin pain is natural as that is where the joint is and that too will disappear as my muscles strengthen.  Oddly though, he says that I don't need any more PT.  I had already scheduled an appt at the clinic with the therapist who I like for next Sunday and I think I'll go anyway.  It can't hurt, right?

The first things I had dreamed of doing today were going swimming and taking a long hot soak in the bathtub, but he vetoed both those activities.  Apparently swimming carries the risk of slipping at the pool and it is still too soon to get down into the bathtub.  Oh well.  I'll have to wait another 6 weeks.

In the meantime, I will have to suffice with all the other things I can resume doing now:  sit in a regular chair, bend over, tie my own shoes (still actually harder than it sounds!), sleep on my stomach, get in a car.  What a relief!

And today, I'm leaving Ramat Gan for the first time in 6 weeks (Givatayim doesn't count).  My friend V, is coming to pick me up and take me for lunch in the big city.  Which reminds me...there is one more thing I need to resume. I haven't blow-dried my hair in the last 6 weeks (well there wasn't much need for it, was there?) so I better go & do that now so that V doesn't look like she's lunching with the Witch of the East.

I'm off!

p.s.  after I posted this blog entry, I opened the balcony to water the flowers and saw that this sunflower had burst opened. The perfect image for my first day out, no?

Firsts

I haven't felt well the past couple of days and I didn't really want to blog about it.


It all began when I went to the Museum of the Far Eastern Art of Ramat Gan (bet you didn't even know there was one, did you?!) with a friend, naively thinking that, having felt so good lately, it would be no problem to wander slowly through the small collection.

(Personal pic:  The Yechiel Nahari Museum of Far Eastern Art, Ramat Gan)

 

 

The Museum is just across the street from my house, so we walked over and spent a lovely hour or so there admiring the 47 Faithful Samurai. Now for the record, let me just state:  standing and sauntering around a museum is hard work.  It is not nearly as easy as walking, which is kinetic & where the energy is dispersed equally amongst all the working muscles.  Standing is static and strains the supporting muscles.  A lot.

By the time we got back to the entrance to my building, I was really feeling a bit ill.  (To my dear friend who was with me, who I suspect is reading this, PLEASE do not feel badly about this.  It was my idea to go & I had no idea it would affect me so adversely.  I had a delightful time despite the aftermath.)  Nauseous and once again, my gluteus maximus proved just how maximus it really is!  I took the Tramadex & got into bed.

The following day I was sore but undeterred.  I decided to skip the PT exercises and went walking with Little Man instead.  Albeit not a long walk, but halfway through I felt so drained, we had to stop and rest.  For the remainder of the day, I was exhausted. 

Finally yesterday, after two days of feeling generally awful, it occurred to me that I hadn't taken any iron for the past two days and despite a lifetime of professing that I could "live on matzoh and butter", realized that, sadly, this is actually not possible.  Bear to the rescue, he made a big pot of lentil soup and instructed L to make a lettuce salad.  Shabbat dinner infused with iron-rich foods.  Yum.

Then I broke down and took a sleeping pill, because the previous two nights, I had woken up, ostensibly from the pain in my ass and suffered from some very bizarre dreams.  And we have already learned the lesson of how sleepless nights affect recovery...

Today I awoke a new woman. Feeling good.  Feeling much stronger. This morning's walk was a painless 3.6 km in 62 minutes, including an iced-coffee break at Cafe Viola.  That's a first. And because I didn't intend to focus on the negative in this blog post, I thought I'd give you a string of other "firsts" that I've managed recently:

• solo shower tonight (first time I've bathed alone in nearly 6 weeks!)
• laid on my stomach on my bed reading (my fav Saturday activity)
• got up and down the stairs like a normal person at last (slowly)
• successfully did side leg lifts (ok, ok, so cheated a little bit - my knee was bent)
• finished knitting my first sweater (to be featured in a future post after blocking) 

Tomorrow is, unbelievably, 6 weeks post-op.  I'm excited about the prospects of the restrictions being lifted when I see Prof Palmtree on Monday. Although I'll probably continue to have good days and bad ones, just like everyone does, I'm looking forward to racking up some more "firsts" with my brand new hip in the coming weeks. 

Will keep you posted.  Sayonara for now.

 http://www.artelino.com/articles/samurai-pictures.asp    

                                  http://www.gominekobooks.com/mushae/mushae.html

 

             Engravings from the series "Lives of the 47 Ronin Faithful Samurais"

                                Utagawa Kuniyoshi (1847-48)

I smell nice

(Photo credit: Laline products www.106center.co.il)

The nicest thing about being incapacitated is receiving all the lovely get-well gifts that people have showered on me.  Books, flowers, chocolates and sweet little boxes of divine-smelling creams, soaps, lotions and potions. Lavender, Vanilla, Ocean, Patchouli.  I am the Laline Queen.  My bathroom smells heavenly and so do I. 

When I was in the hospital the Bear massaged me daily with lavender moisturizer.  (The aid staff ladies were visibly amazed and jealous).  At home also, although I am now more flexible and able to do this myself, he often helps in places I still can't reach (i.e. my left foot).  I have an array of fragrant lotions to choose from, all gifts from well-wishers.   It is the one of the few luxuries I have at the moment in my confined world.

I walked 3 kilometers again yesterday with no pain.  I made it through the night last night without any sleeping pills and I haven't taken any painkillers.  My muscles (quads, gluts) still feel tight and stiff, especially when I get up from the recliner, but I'm using the cane only when I walk outside - no longer needed at home.  Next week, I'll see Prof. Palmtree and the restrictions will, at last, be lifted. 

All this AND I smell good too! 

A Tribute to my Mom

I've been somewhat negligent about writing the past two weeks.  That's because my Mom has been here playing Florence Nightingale and I didn't want to spend my time with my nose in my laptop instead of being with her.

I know that it wasn't the most interesting trip for her. Every morning she'd get up and oil my incision site, get me dressed, put on my anti-DVT bandages, prepare my breakfast, put on my socks and shoes and take me for my morning walk. 

And that doesn't include bending over to pick up the hundreds of things I drop in a day.  Little Man says I have holes in my hands.  Inevitably, anything I am holding lands up on the floor. 

In the afternoon, she'd prepare some lunch, water my garden, force encourage me to do my exercises, have a short nap, put on my socks and shoes and then take me out for my afternoon walk. 

At night, we'd do our exercises again, then she helped me shower and get ready for bed, oiling my incision and helping me into my pyjamas. Tedious really.  I am quite sure that she'll need another vacation to rest after having to walk up and down the four flights of stairs three times a day on this one.

Little Man did take her out a couple of times to the Museum and the Mall but mainly her daily schedule revolved around mine. Not terribly exciting.  But she's my Mom and so I can understand her wanting to be there for me.  And although it was somewhat mundane, I don't want to make it sound as though we didn't enjoy each other's company or have fun together. 

We talked and laughed a lot during our walks.  She turned me on to Smash, the new TV show. I moaned, she listened. And we drank a lot of coffee.  For me, and I think (hope) for her too, it was a pleasant respite from our normal lives.  A time when we got to just be together with nothing else to do and no outside pressures to interrupt us.  An oasis.

So as a tribute to my wonderful Mom for coming out here to take care of me, here is a pictorial recap of our time together.

Chasing the sunshine.  

The first few days she was here were so cold, she didn't take off her winter coat.  

Here she finally took out the lining and the sun sure felt good on our faces. 

Getting ready for our walk to Bnei Brak.  That is not a fashion statement!  We wanted to look the part, so we dressed modestly.  The walk took us up a steep hill and we debated turning back but we persevered and it turned out to be the highlight of Mom's trip. 

We took a bus back!

Getting our daily fix of java on a morning walk.

This was after missing my pedi appointment at the coffee shop on Sderot Yerushalayim.

Oops.  How did that get in there?  

My Dad and Rella were in Hawaii that week and we heard from them often. 

Respite in the garden after our afternoon walk.  By now, it was so hot that it was a pleasure to sit in the cool garden after walking a 1.5 km & before climbing up the stairs.

Everything's cooked, table set, showered and dressed, waiting for the guests to arrive. 

Hag Sameach.

At the neighborhood Geniza.  Yes, we actually have one. 

Mom couldn't believe it either.

At the local supermarket, curious to see all the hametz covered up and checking out the prices of the pesadika products so prominently displayed.

Smiling our "Sian" smiles.  Bottom teeth showing.

Who knows what we were laughing at here on one of our many walks. 

We laughed a lot.

We stopped to photograph the pansies (Amnon v'Tamar) and the woman who lives here actually invited us in to see her garden.  Only in Israel.

Thanks Mom.

You're the best!

<3