Becoming Bionic (Part2)

Becoming Bionic, Part 2

So, when I left you last time, I was on my way to a nap, something I’ve found not only necessary, but impossible to deny! At this point in Week 3 of my recovery, naps are less relentlessly demanding, thankfully, but I still “hit the wall” everyday at some point.

I want to mention pain management here, as it has been an issue of concern for me. When I first came out of surgery, I was on a morphine pump. Granted, I probably never pushed the button as often as I should’ve, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that the biggest effect was a tsunami wave of nausea without any pain relief that I could discern. They took me off the pump when it became clear that I was choosing pain over nausea and I was put on Ultram (tramadol), since most of the other choices (Vicodin, Percocet, etc.) would have been potentially harmful to my diseased liver (also of import for those who are co-infected with hep C). I know that I have developed an unusually high pain threshold in the months that I lived with my damaged hip, so that might have played a part, but I found the Ultram to be virtually ineffective and so stopped taking it a couple days after my release from the hospital. My advice to you is that if you know you have a low pain threshold, take the time to talk to a pain management specialist before your surgery, so you have different options lined up. My anesthesiologist was great in explaining the surgical aspect, but I never saw him afterwards.

And now on to the good news – swelling is gone, as is most of the bruising; staples have been removed (surprisingly painlessly); the walker has been returned to my parents’ utility closet, never to be seen again (hopefully); and my physical therapist, Cyndi, says I’ll probably be able to retire the cane within the week.

Which brings me to something you’ll probably hear so much you’ll want to scream – YOU HAVE TO DO YOUR PHYSICAL THERAPY! Believe me, I am so anti-exercise that when the preaching began, I just wanted to curl up and shut it out. But, fortunately for me, I had already experienced the wonderful benefits of PT back in Chicago (thanks to Pat Staszak at Andersonville Physical Therapy), so I gritted my teeth and made ready to bear it! It will seem stupid at first – ankle pumps, heel slides, knee presses and, the worst, side slides and butt clenches. The pain defeats the determination to “get through it” and there’s a point at which you have to wonder how 10 repetitions of these seemingly elementary movements could possibly be doing any good. But they do and soon it becomes clear that those few minutes every day are a small price to pay for your mobility.

Challenges remain, however. Finding that “sweet spot” in bed which leads to deep REM sleep still evades me, though it has become easier to settle for longer periods of time. Interestingly, it’s not pain from the surgery that interrupts, but rather the tightness and feeling of strain in the muscles of my thigh and calf on the surgery side. It’s so hard to get comfortable. Cyndi assures me this is normal and I have diligently done the stretching exercises she’s added to my repertoire, but the constant, deep ache in my calf nags. Luckily, she’s okayed a massage and my sister has a massage therapist who charges $60 for “however long it takes” – ah, the simple joys of non-urban living!

There is also still difficulty sitting for long periods of time, but I’ve taken to walking around the kitchen here when I’ve been typing for too long – excuse me for a few minutes while I do so now. Ahh…that’s better.

I’ll leave you now in anticipation of my PT “graduation” tomorrow – for this big event, I may actually get out of my usual “schmata” and into the one pair of sweat pants I brought. Whooppee.