I finally was able to get a good night's sleep last night. I woke up only once to re-medicate myself, lest I get behind on my pain control again.
My first physical therapy appointment was this morning. I was convinced that my doctor was some kind of sadist scheduling therapy so soon after surgery. My therapist, L, assures me, however, that the pain endured during therapy has a purpose. Really?? If I wasn't able to trod though the session in a drug induced haze, I'm certain I would have a different opinion. Thankfully my legs are conditioned and in good shape so we did not have to begin therapy from square one and all went well. I will continue to see L biweekly for approximately two months. I have exercises which I am to perform at home. I will dutifully do so every day. Seriously, I know that therapy is imperative for recovery, and I am way to young to not make a full recovery.
Now I must rest. Crazy Canadian Kramer has just reminded me that it is time for our afternoon snooze. Ahhhh....the life of a cat!