Well, I guess the easy part is over. Now the hard work begins.
I'm just trying to convince myself that I am in the mood to do hard work. Actually, I have no choice in the matter. It has to be done, and my wife Darlene is just the tough-nosed slave-driver to make me do it.
But the knee surgery is done and I have been home for almost a week now. A week of finishing exercises only to restart them again after icing the leg.
We were late for surgery – but luckily only by a couple of minutes. We arrived at the hospital in Grosse Point Farms and I ran in while Darlene bypassed the Valet parking to park the jeep herself. And as soon as I walked into the surgery lounge they took me right back to prep me. A knee shaving and I.V. sedation later and Darlene was by my side for the final few moments. And then the sedation kicked in.
And everybody said I acted like a goof-ball as they rolled me out of pre-op and up to the surgery room. I don't remember a second of it, but apparently I was making bad jokes and quoting cliché's and other altruisms.
Me? No way.
Even the surgeon, Dr. Locke, was quick to point out my "antics" as he visited the next morning for the post-operative visit.
When I came to, I was in a recovery room with my beautiful wife smiling down on me.
As I was rolled into my overnight room, I was told to keep my hands in the gurney – I guess I felt an obligation to help us avoid bumping into walls.
Once slid into my bed, the first thing I saw on the wall of my room was a thirty-six inch LCD HD television. And with the Red Wings and Tigers slated to play on TV that night, I thanked our Lord above for blessing me to see these two games on this television that night. Only the Lord works in mysterious ways, as neither game were played on stations my HD TV could pick up. So I spent the night drifting in and out of sleep listening to both games on my little radio. For part of the Tigers game I really thought I was sitting in the garage petting our black lab pup Suzie and listening to the game. But when I awoke, I had merely been petting a pillow used to elevate my knee that somehow had found itself laid across my lap.
Since being home – leg bound up in an amazing brace that takes a PhD to understand – hooked into an automatic icing machine that has a hose running from what looks (and will likely be in the future) a beer cooler to what looks like the cover of a golf ball wrapped around the incisions on my knee.
And my butt hurts. It hurts from constantly completing the set of some 20 exercises given to me to do then icing the leg down – then starting the exercises over. There is no comfortable way to sit.
So I shift myself around to let the blood back into my butt, and I do my exercises. And Darlene enforces my regiment. And she takes care of me, at a time when she is not really feeling very good herself. And I curse her out loud and thank the Lord for her quietly in my heart.
But don't tell her. It would wreck my image.
My original expectation as I took it from Dr. Locke was to be off work for two weeks – and as it is now almost one week done – I am not sure but my expectation may have been a bit too aggressive. But I do get better and stronger every day.
Perhaps I will. I hope so.
I hate daytime Television.