I'm over it.
Can I get off my butt now?
Following up where I left off with the eat thing - when I got out of the car to go into the hospital, there was a small boy with a milkshake walking alongside his daddy. I almost ate him.
Next to the check-in area sits a cafe. Fresh muffins, lattes, scones, turkey sandwiches . . .
The check-in-dude waved me over, and as I approached him, his eyes grew wider than those satellite dishes people had in their backyards in the '80s. He saw the hunger in my eyes. He thought he was gonna be my lunch!
"You people are so cruel! Making pre-op patients who haven't eaten in nearly a day walk through a freakin' cafe with muffins! This is patient abuse!" I jabbed by Kaiser card and credit card at him.
"Uh, I guess they didn't think that through when they designed the building." Check-in-dude ducked. He really thought I was gonna bite him. Well, I would've if I could've.
Somewhere in that hunger craze, the surgeon came in, told me it looked like he'd only be cleaning up some rough torn edges in my knee (per MRI). I'd be back to normal in two weeks or so.
In recovery, the post-op nurse tells me the surgery went well. What needed to be fixed was fixed.
Long silent pause.
She had pictures.
Of the my knee's inner parts.
A city bus driver could take a gander at those photos and think, "Oh. My. Word! How did a cheese grater get in her knee?"
My poor knee was in shreds. John said the tissue looked like lace curtains used by a mountain lion as a scratching surface.
Sure, they cleaned out some rough edges, but then they had to stretch things out and sew others back together.
Good-bye two weeks and back on the happy hiking trails.
John broke the news to me that the earliest I could hike was NOVEMBER!
Hiking, biking, camping, mountain climbing - I live for that stuff in the summer. Now I'm on my butt or some metal crutches.
"Kiss Rickett's Glenn good-bye." John said to me referring to our trip to PA to visit my parents in July. I can't hike my beloved trail with 32 waterfalls. Can't even go near it. May have to travel with crutches.
Do you know TSA treats you like a terrorist if you have a metal brace or crutches? I was searched in a very embarrassing way a few years ago at the MN airport when I had my hinge brace on my elbow. Had to unbutton my jeans and roll down the waist-band in front of the line of passengers behind me!
So, I have to be funny. I need to come up with 101 ways to have fun on your butt. Humor me here. Any ideas?
Know of pain management that works better than Percocet that's legal? Drugs, ice, elevation . . . none of it's working right now.