Letters From the Loony Bin

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!

Views from a recliner........

I am feeling slightly better this afternoon. Doctor T. prescribed a new pain med to try and I am optimistic that I may soon be able to rest comfortably. I am ultimately concerned about the pain because I start physical therapy tomorrow morning. Therapy with zero pain relief is not an adventure I want to experience. In fact it sounds rather insane!

I have been sitting in the same recliner for what seems like an eternity and have been looking at the same areas of the living room. Leave it to me to see it as a photo opportunity.

Crazy Canadian Kramer has become my constant companion...

And last but not least.....a very lovely and gorgeous smelling flower arrangement sent by the best co-workers; Kathryn, Julie, Phyllis, Rob and Cheri. Love you guys!!

Dear Crutches:

You are an evil spawn from hell....a medieval torture device invented by a sick individual. I mistakenly thought that our previous meeting three years ago would be our last. I again was mistaken when I thought that packing you away deep under the stairs, would make the memories of our relationship disappear. Alas, I was wrong....very wrong. The pain you once created has again become my reality. My arm pits and ribs are bruised, my hands are swollen. As if that wasn't enough you tipped over and smacked me in the head! The grand paradox is that you are the only one that can help me get from here to there, and there to here. You are my only source of support. What cruel irony!

All my best (errr.....drop dead),

Oh the pain!!

Ok, ok!! I know they told me that the first few days following surgery would be the most difficult. Why is it that I always think I am the exception to the rule?? It is well known by friends and family that it is extremely hard for me to admit any form of weakness......but this is PAINFUL.....and EXHAUSTING! Being an independent creature, it is difficult to accept I need help....well, with everything.

For those of you waiting for an update, I'm happy to oblige. My surgery went very well and was considered a success. However, there were some unexpected factors. (Why wouldn't there be, right??!) My knee was in worse shape than originally conceived.

The first part of the surgery involved an arthroscopic procedure to examine and clean up the cartilage under my patella. What they found were 50+ floaters (cartilage that has sheared off, hardened and is floating around independently within the joint) wreaking havoc under my knee cap. They act like bits of gravel sanding away at the healthy cartilage. This was a good explanation for the grinding, snapping and swelling I was experiencing.

The last portion of the surgery involved the Tibial Tubercle Osteotomy. It was originally thought that my tubercle (the upper portion of the tibia) was rotated out approximately 14 degrees. Zero degrees is considered normal and helps ensure that the femur, knee joint and tibia are in a straight line. However, my tubercle was found to be somewhere in the ballpark of 20 degrees, much more severe than anticipated. What does this all mean? It means that because of the severity, they were unable to place my tubercle back to the 0 degree position. However, I still should notice significant relief upon my recovery. And I am very thankful for this. Doctor T. assures me that we made the right decision performing this radical surgery opposed to another that would simply act as a band-aid. This procedure should help preserve my knee function and delay a knee replacement until I am at an appropriate age (or never!).

I am taking things hour by hour at this point, but know that with every day I should be feeling better. Thank you for all of the well wishes! They do a great deal for the morale!

Going Under the Knife!

Tomorrow I will be having knee surgery. I have been dragging my heels over having this procedure done since it was first mentioned to me three years ago. I resisted my doctor's recommendations, thinking that surely my knee would get better on it's own, surely I wouldn't need that procedure! Alas..I concede! I can no longer ignore my ever aching, cracking, snapping, swelling and stiffening joint.

I will be having what is called at Tibial Tubercle Osteotomy . In laymen's terms it is basically a knee realignment surgery. Over the years, curling, injuries, and being blessed with hypermobility have all attributed to my left knee becoming severely unaligned.

I am looking forward to two weeks off of work, 6 weeks on crutches, 3 months in an immobilizer brace, and extensive physical therapy.....or maybe NOT! However, I am grateful that there is a treatment to improve my condition.

I will try to update as I can. On the bright side, during my convalesce I may actually have time to edit and post my Vegas photos!

"Blood is blood and land is land..."

As a child that sentence alone could make me cringe, run away, or want to hide. I was frequently lectured on the importance of both by my godmother, J. She too was given this oration by her father and over the years it has been perfected by both. In the mind of a child of 8 or 9, I had reasoned that she was either trying to bore or punish us purely for her entertainment. As I have gotten older, I slowly began understand the truth behind that statement.

My family collectively owns a large chunk of land just north of my grandparent's farmstead. Some is rented out as farm acreage. The rest consists of woods and thickets. Over the years, the area has been the site of many hunting seasons, bonfires, and camping trips.

Last weekend we made the trek to visit my grandparents, cousins and the land from which my family comes. After the stress of the past month, I felt my soul renewed. For me it is somewhat of a religious experience...the smells, the sounds, the beauty. The scenery was perfect and the company divine.

So, my dear godmother, J, I must confess, I now understand perfectly the reasoning behind your now famous lecture. There is nothing more important than your family, your blood... and the soil, the land, from which it came.

One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish...

Our fishing stop in Devils Lake was not quite as exciting as the Dr. Seuss book, but it was a beautiful day, one of the nicest of the summer. The light was perfect and I couldn't resist firing off 200ish photos. Gym Dad, Sister K and Miss J were trying their best to catch dinner and I enjoyed myself photographing the moment.

"From there to here, from here to there, funny things are everywhere."

One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish

by Dr. Seuss

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