Not to worry. Even though the excerpt for this post — featured on the home page — mentions constipation, I won’t be going on about it. Just had to get it out of my system. (BA DUM TSST!)
But I digest, er, I mean, digress. If there is one thing you can count on — total knee replacement surgery will leave you in stitches. (I’m here all week, folks. BA DUM TSST!)
Three days before my RIGHT knee replacement surgery on March 13 (my LEFT knee was replaced in August 2021), I sent an email to my beloveds. In it, I included this request: “I love snail cards, and the more inappropriate, the better, so buy some stamps and make me laugh.” Good lord, did my beloveds come through or what?
For the first two weeks, recovering from knee surgery entails sitting with one’s knee elevated wrapped in a fancy-schmancy ice thingy provided by the hospital. (See the first photo in yesterday’s post to see what the thingy looks like.) Then when you’re not sitting with your knee elevated wrapped in ice, you sit with your knee elevated wrapped in ice and for a change of pace, you sit with your knee elevated wrapped in ice. At one point, I got so bored, I experimented with gummy bears to see how far I could stretch one. They stretched farther than I could.
Later that day, Adrienne helped me hobble to my kitchen sink so I could do something really fun and exciting like washing dishes. As I was standing at the sink, Adrienne suddenly blurted, “Sharon, don’t move! There’s something on your pants!” Alarmed, I replied, “What is it? Get it OFF me!” Taking out her iPhone, she quickly snapped a photo. “Is it OFF me?!” I exclaimed. “Wait, let me enlarge the photo,” advised Adrienne.
On the list of surgeries notorious for challenging recoveries, total knee and hip replacements are second only to spinal fusion. I worked hard and recovered from my total LEFT knee replacement. How am I doing with this surgery? Well, the pain is all RIGHT now!
TOMORROW: SURGICAL LESSONS — BELIEVE!
As some of you may know, I unexpectedly graduated from physical therapy (PT) yesterday morning. A re-evaluation revealed that I was stronger than I thought I was. Even though I’m no longer in PT, I still plan to share what I gleaned from it next week with a post entitled “SURGICAL LESSONS — WORK!”
And kids, “work” is an understatement.
Those cards are fantastic! It’s a good thing you have friends with their s*** together enough to send cards via mail. As you know, I am the World’s Worst at it. But I do care.
I love love love the drawing of the dark flower and dark child. I was that child on the inside but brought and cheery on the outside, Ugh. Ahhh well. We are who we are.
I love your lab experiment on gummy bear stretching. Sounds like a good post-surgical exercise to me!
I am so grateful, Neola, to have friends who send snail mail as often as I do. Further, that they are willing to be as inappropriate as I am when duty — recovery duty — calls.
Not all of my cards were like the ones featured in this post. Tomorrow’s post will feature those cards.
Good Morning! Thanks for starting the day off with a laugh! It is always rewarding to send you cards, because we know you will read and reread them as fuel for recovery!
Beth — that’s precisely what I do! I literally have ALL of them fanned out on a coffee table next to my reading chair and periodically read each one for, yep, recovery fuel!
Oh Sharon, where would we be without your humor? Darn bored, that’s for sure! Adrienne’s humor definitely matches yours, we just don’t get to see it as often. Adrienne, please show it to us more often – I love it!
Back to you, Sharon, you have a great group of friends who certainly know where to find cards that are perfect for you. They were fun to read on this post (thanks for sharing them). I don’t know anyone who could make the tedium of elevating & icing one’s leg repeatedly sound funny, but you did! Your Gummy Bear incident was it. The incident itself was enough, but Adrienne’s response & need to photograph it for posterity (ha, ha, ha – pun accidentally intended!), made me laugh so hard!!
I really don’t mean to take advantage of your pain & suffering, but you put it out there, … & your retelling is so funny. You’re making a gray, rainy day much lighter for me. I’m waiting patiently for the next installment!!
Thank you, Laura. And your “posterity” pun is . . . well, I’m jealous, and I am going to steal it (with good judgement, of course).
Let me clarify something. I didn’t “peel” off the gummy bear; I had to pry it off! That’s how attached it was!
Yeah, Adrienne — I believe the gummy bear had melted onto my pants. You made several tries before it actually came off; amazingly, in one piece.
Another story: Immediately before wheeling Sharon out of the pre-op room to go into surgery, they started giving her medication which obviously began to relax and make her, let’s say, a bit out of it.
The nurse who Sharon bonded with says, “Sharon, now is the time for you to say your goodbyes.” Sharon looks directly at the nurse who is standing at the end of her bed and extends her arms to hug her. I see the nurse’s surprise as she cracks a smile. Mind you, I’m standing next to her bed on the left. I respond, “No, Sharon. She means me…say goodbye to me.”
Leave it to Sharon! Too funny!! Thanks for sharing those stories.
I vaguely remember this incident, Adrienne, but now the whole world knows.
What I DO remember is prior to inviting me to say my goodbyes, the nurse told me that because of the medication, I would start to forget things. Not fully awake, but still sufficiently aware, I immediately replied, “Gawd, I hope I forget my childhood!”