Marking Time

Finally. A bright, sunny day. The weather in HPNC has been so dreary of late that I was beginning to feel a tad depressed. And you know me...I'm NEVER depressed. Too much to do...too many places to go...too many people to see...too many books to read...too many sweaters to knit...too many roses to smell...too many veggies to harvest...too much new stuff to learn. No time to yield to depressing thoughts. Mind you, if I'd had any desire to give way to The Black Dog (as a great-uncle used to call it), the past few weeks might have offered an opportunity. But, just like Annie sang "The sun'll come out...tomorrow...!" And it has...today!

A bit of a recap is probably in order:

I told you about my wrist surgery (DeQuervain's release) in my last post, so I guess an update is overdue. Recovery progressed right on schedule, and here I am 8 weeks later, feeling fine and glad I had it done. Once the stitches were out, healing truly seemed to speed up...and now I rarely remember that I even had surgery a couple of months ago. The scar-tissued skin covering the 1"-long incision is still a bit tender ("perfectly normal and to be expected, as those nerves were severed and must regenerate" quoth the surgeon), so my Mickey Mouse watch continues to be absent from duty and I continue to roll up the sleeve on my left arm a bit to keep anything from touching that spot. I try to remember not to drape my purse or a shopping bag over that wrist. The real test? Knitting again. Tried a little bit after my Dr. gave the go-ahead at my appointment last week; will add a little more time each week until I'm back in the groove. Best news? Dr. W says that once this repair is done and I'm completely recovered, I should NEVER have this problem again. (At least not in the same hand...;-)

In my last couple of posts, I mentioned that Mr. T was getting ready for knee replacement surgery. He checked in on October 7, had a partial knee replacement, stayed overnight at Baptist Hospital in Winston-Salem, was up and walking down the hall with a walker, and came home the next afternoon. Wowzers! And he hasn't looked back. Here's a picture taken just after he got in his room from recovery...along with a "picture" of his new knee. Remarkable!

Long-time readers of our Christmas newsletter (also called The Adsit Adventure) may recall that he had a total knee replacement (TKR) of his right knee in 2005, when we lived in Missouri. So he was somewhat prepared for this one. Only...not exactly. Things have certainly changed in 10 years! For one thing, his relationship with this surgeon was completely different...and much more rewarding this time around. Dr. P called Mr. T at home, after hours, not once but twice in the same evening...just to make sure T understood the procedure and was comfortable with what was going to happen. And "what was going to happen" was completely different, as the surgery was "done" by a robot! Read more about the Mako surgery here: http://www.makosurgical.com/makoplasty/knee. (There's even a link to a YouTube video. Oh, and his scar? Much longer than illustrated. Every bit as long as the one for the TKR.)

Because T had his surgery in a teaching hospital (NC Baptist is associated with Wake Forest University's Bowman Grey School of Medicine) and he was given a nerve block as the main method of anesthesia, he had agreed to participate in research being done on adding additional pain-blocking meds. It was a blind study, so we had no way of knowing what amount, if any, of which "extra med" he received. Well, we didn't know until nearly 40+ hours after the surgery when the feeling FINALLY began to return to his shin/calf. Pretty much a certainty he received the mondo dose of the max concoction. 

Sounds great, right? One tiny problem: T had to be checked for "pain response" by sticking him with a sharp object (think: safety pin!) every two hours. So, every couple of hours throughout the night, like clockwork, "Justin" (the unlucky assistant who drew the short straw) would appear at T's bedside to stick him with a sharp point and ask "can you feel that?" Yep...long night for all involved. By 4:00 a.m. I was ready to suggest that T just tell J that he could feel it, so we could all get a few precious hours of sleep before breakfast. (Who am I kidding? I had to get up anyway to dash home and feed the dogs, as I'd done the evening before. I had just enough time for a quick shower, a cup of instant, and another mad dash to get back in T's room when the Dr. came on his early morning rounds. Made it with a whole couple of minutes to spare!)

We were home less than 24 hours before heading back to W-S for T's first physical therapy session. These folks waste no time, do they? And, that about sums up our last few weeks: "Heading to W-S for physical therapy session." They must be working because T ditched the walker after 2 days. He does use a walking stick for his two-mile walks in/around our neighborhood, but more for stability than anything. He can climb the one flight of stairs to his office, although he's doing that much less often than I'd feared. He continues to progress on schedule as confirmed when he was seen by the physician assistant a couple of times, getting his staples removed on 11/9. Since he still needs meds to manage the pain, especially after PT, he can't drive yet, so that keeps him on the DL for now. Fingers crossed for the OK to return to work (and driving!) at his next PA appointment 11/19. We shall see...

When we had a few warm, sunny days at the tail end of October, I decided to get back in the garden...it had been too long! I was thrilled with the late harvest I found!

...flowers, too!

Since I love to get a third season out of our soil, I decided to plant some lettuce, spinach, turnip greens, and collards in the raised beds. First, of course, I had to clean the jungle-like growth from a couple of the boxes...the result of having been unable to garden for such a good part of mid-to-late summer, going into fall. It all seemed to go well, until...

The following morning I realized I must have aggravated my left foot and caused a flare of the sesamoiditis. Great, just great. Nothing to do but wait it out. So, for the next 10 days I rested, elevated, and iced my aching foot...and indulged in the pain meds the Dr. had prescribed when I had the stress fracture in the sesamoid bone earlier this year...which he had warned often leads to chronic sesamoiditis.  (Read more about sesamoid stress fracture becoming chronic here: http://www.foothealthfacts.org/footankleinfo/Sesamoid_Injuries.htm)

Only, I couldn't "indulge myself" on T's PT days, now could I...one of us had to drive, for pity's sake. 

Weren't we a pair? Both of us, kicked back in our matching red recliners, T with an ice pack on his left knee...me with an ice pack on my left foot. And neither of us with a wineglass in hand because of pain medication! I even ordered us walking canes from the medical equipment store...but I drew the line at matching canes! (Mine has butterflies on it...;-)

And that about sums up the last couple of months for us: surgery, recovery, and rehab. Rinse and repeat!

We have tried to use our time together wisely, viewing this as a window into retirement, albeit a much less active one than we envision. Let me just say that many cups of coffee have been consumed! I checked several books on retirement out of the library and even succeeded in getting T to open one: "How to Retire Happy, Wild, and Free," by Ernie J. Zelinski. 

We've had numerous "what if..." discussions about: possible dates "to pull the retirement trigger" (we have narrowed it down to 4 possible dates that occur from late 2016 through late 2017); healthcare coverage after we no longer have employer-provided options (since "caring for our health" is a current theme!); and reviewing the 401k balance, allocation, and investments (since the recent market volatility has had everyone on edge). We went to the HP Senior Center to preview a Tai Chi class and had the same initial reaction: liked Tai Chi...felt out-of-pocket at the Sr Ctr. "That's where Nana went!" (Never mind that we are now both in our 60's and certainly qualify to attend. Ahem.)

While we know this pre-retirement respite is just a taste of the real thing, we do agree on something: we are looking forward to the opportunity to enjoy "the real thing!" The question now is, I wonder if we can return to our previous programming without feeling a ounce of regret that we will have to "unretire" for possibly as long as two more years? 

Or will we begin to feel like we are marking time? Again, we shall see...

A Time for Healing

Glad that week is behind us. Thankfully, the healing has begun.

Recovery from Mr. T's shoulder surgery is going well. He feels much better as he heads into the second week, although the localized pain around the surgery site is pretty intense at times. Most thankful for his pain pills, now that he no longer has the benefit of the On-Q pain block thingee. For some reason, he has the most pain from a spot on his back/shoulder blade that doesn't appear to have been involved in the operation. No stitches, no redness, no lump, bump, or bruise. Odd. Well, maybe we can learn more about it at his upcoming follow-up visit on Friday. We shall see.

"The kiss of sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth,
One is nearer God’s heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth."
          -- Dorothy Frances Gurney

Those lines from Gurney's poem are on a metal plaque that Momma purchased for her garden in Smithville...then I had in every garden since 1990...until Missy M "inherited" it during the move from MO to NC. At our house, as you are no doubt aware, the garden is a source of much solace and healing. And, with our current situation, we are relying on what we know to help make us better. Since Mr. T's usual vigorous participation in yardening activities is limited (ever tried hoeing with one hand, your non-dominant hand at that...the dominant arm being trapped in a sling?), our weekend Fall clean-up was briefer than usual. Still, he probably did WAY more than he was supposed to...any surprises there? Paid for it the next morning, of course...but he's back out there today, playing with Abbie. (Post is up on our garden blog, Gardening with the Giants. Click here to go there.)

John F. Kennedy - 11/2013

Of course, flowers always make boo-boo's heal faster, don't you agree? Here (left) is a picture of one of the most beautiful blooms that we've had this year from the John F. Kennedy rosebush. It went into Mr. T's "Get Well" bouquet.

'Gethsemane Moonlight’ mums

Actually, we have two JFK bushes in the back yard, along with a couple of Sheer Bliss roses and one Miss All American Beauty, and they are ALL putting on buds like crazy...most of which will be nipped when this latest 'artic front' blows through tonight ("they" are saying possible snow mixed with the rain!) . Everything else is pretty much spent, with the exception of the perfect-for-Fall persimmon-colored Pat Austin roses in the Rose Garden and the Chrysanthemum X ‘Gethsemane Moonlight’...clumps of which are now scattered throughout the property, thanks to my unexpected success with turning late Spring prunings (when you clip off the early growth in order to encourage lush flowering later on) into rooted cuttings. Here's a shot of the clumps growing at the mailbox (right).

So, that's how the physical healing is progressing. The emotional healing from the loss of our dear Elmo is happening...albeit at a slower pace. We have moved beyond hourly showers to just a few daily sprinkles. And we are more aggressive in moving into the phase of "remember when Elmo..."  The grief is still there, still close to the surface...but telling his story makes it much easier to contend with.

Until...

From our walk...

The day I took that picture of the mums at the mailbox (above) was a lovely Fall day: bright, crisp, with a bit of a cool breeze. The sky was the most brilliant blue...it took absolutely my breath away. Had to take a picture of it! (left)

I had taken Abbie for her walk (those are going very well, I might add) and stopped at the mailbox for the picture and the mail. There was the usual pile of circulars, ads, etc.; a bill or two; a "get well" card for Mr. T from Cousin H & S (cute card...thanks!); and a large, padded envelope. I tossed the first bunch in the green toter as I passed it in the driveway...garbage in, recycle out. When I got inside, something else caught my attention, so I dropped the surviving mail on the counter and headed off to take care of the something else. An hour or so later, when I came back into the kitchen to start supper, I noticed the mail and started opening the envelopes.

The padded one was heavier than I'd originally thought. I zipped the strip along the short edge and pulled a beautiful card from the interior. It was from the Emergency Animal Clinic in Greensboro, signed by the whole staff, sending their sympathy on Elmo's loss. The tears started flowing.

Then, from the depths of the envelope, I pulled a smooth, cream-colored disc...with his paw print captured in clay, baked into an ornament. Literally, took my breath away. I had to sit down...and then I had to jump up and find the box of tissues. The flood gates were open. I'm tearing up just writing about the experience. Showing the thoughtful gift to Mr. T, I had a partner in crying. We continued until we were both exhausted. Start supper? Forget about it. PBJs were about all I could manage.

The next morning, I knew I needed to let someone at the Clinic know how much we appreciated this beautiful gesture, but I couldn't bring myself to make the call. I just didn't think I could make it through a whole conversation without becoming weepy and incoherent.

Until...

I woke up this morning, much earlier than I'd intended since I'd stayed up last night watching Monday Night Football (not sure why...since I could care less about either Miami or Tampa Bay). And, something told me that I could make that call...now. Since the Emergency part of the Clinic closes at 8:00 a.m., I hustled into the kitchen and found the number. I spoke with the sweetest-sounding young lady...who took the time to listen and be gentle and kind in her responses...as she was aware that the emotion was still raw for me.

Breath in...breath out.

So, there you have it. Evidence that healing is indeed happening here at Casa 3917. And that's a good thing.

Drive-thru Surgery and DIY Recovery

Calm and peace reign over our tiny corner of the Universe. After the sound and fury of yesterday's weather, the day has dawned clear, bright, and fresh. The view out of the Morning Room window is a joy to behold...Autumn in all her rain-refreshed, multi-hued glory...with a cloudless Carolina Blue sky as the backdrop.

How could one not be completely centered and just enjoy that vista and savor one's English Breakfast tea? Probably because one is stressing over one's looming duty to perform. Let's hit rewind to get the full story.

Yesterday began with an abrupt start before the red digits on the bedside clock read 4:15...about 30 minutes after I'd finally fallen asleep. Mr. T was scheduled for surgery on his right shoulder "first thing" at 7:30, and he had to check in at High Point Surgery Center at 6:15. Fortunately we live in a 20-minute town...where you can drive to anything you want to in 20 minutes or less. If we'd still lived in Atlanta, that alarm would have been set for 3:15...or earlier.

While he showered, I prepped the dogs' breakfast bowls (they, of course, were still sleeping...so we let them lie). I then rough-chopped some carrots, a couple of stalks of celery, a few cloves of garlic, and a small onion...and tossed them into the bottom of the crockpot. I added a 3-lb. whole chicken, which I slathered with butter; seasoned inside and out with garlic salt, paprika, and pepper; and stuffed with a bundle of fresh herbs (parsley, sage, rosemary, and chives...didn't have any thyme...this time) and a small eggplant. An eggplant, you say? Yes...I had harvested one last one after the first frost killed the plant, and it was too small for much else, other than serving as a moisturizer for the bird. I didn't want to use an apple, like I sometimes do for a turkey, since I didn't want an apple-flavored stock as a result. You see, I had big plans for this chicken and her broth and her veggie friends: they were going to be the base for a big pot of Chicken Noodle Soup...all I would have to do at the end of this hectic day would be debone the meat, add some boiling water, and toss in some wide egg noodles. Perfect "get well" food!

Back to the morning. Turned the crockpot on HIGH while I fixed myself a cup of coffee in a thermal mug and packed a to-go breakfast of mozzarella cheese sticks, a blueberry muffin (made with homegrown blueberries last Sunday and frozen for just such an occasion), and my very first tangerine of the season. Since Mr. T was NPO after midnight in preparation for his surgery, I didn't want to tempt him with too many breakfast-y smells...and I would need sustenance for my time ahead in the waiting room. Then, before I took my turn getting ready, I wrote myself a note to turn the crockpot down to LOW...and to take my knitting bag and iPad. I was so sleepy that I didn't trust my memory to kick in before we left.

We arrived at the Surgey Center just as the car clock read 6:15. So far, so good. Mr. T checked in, and they gave me a pager like the ones you get when waiting for a table at a restaurant. Said it would buzz and light up when I could come back to sit with him...which it did about 10 minutes later. He was already all gowned up and had his IV taped to the back of his hand. Since he'd had no prescription pain medication  for nearly 8 hours...and no OTC meds for the past 3 days...he was hurting pretty badly, and more than ready to get this over and done with.

Soon, we were visited by one of the anesthesiologists, who went down his checklist of questions with Mr. T, telling him that the surgery could last 1-3 hours, depending on what Dr. L found "when he got in there." After surgery, Mr. T would go to recovery for about an hour, to allow him to revive from most of the anesthetics. After he felt well enough to travel, Mr. T would be allowed to go home. So, that would be the Drive-Thru Surgery portion of this post.

Wrapping up, Dr. M. launched into a description of the "on cue" C-Block pain med dispenser that Mr. T would "wear" home. Properly named On-Q, this system works continuously over the first three days (the most painful following this type of surgery), dispensing medicine via a catheter inserted in the neck during surgery. Follow this link to learn more about it: http://extranet.acsysweb.com/vSiteManager/StamfordHospital/Public/Upload/Going%20Home%20with%20a%20Peripheral%20Cathater.pdf

And then, Dr. M. turns to me and says...with the straightest of faces..."and you will remove the catheter in three days." Stunned. Only word to describe how I felt...and I'm sure how I appeared. 

Remove a catheter, are you crazy? Do I look like a nurse? No, I do not...nor do I play one on TV...and I sure didn't sleep at a Holiday Inn Express last night. He goes on to say they will send me home with instructions (turns out they were pretty sparse, hence the reason I Googled it and found that thorough brochure above): "you just wear some gloves (I guess I should be glad I happen to have a box of surgical gloves at home), close this clamp here, and pull out the catheter which will be there (pointing at a spot on Mr. T's neck)." And that, dear readers, would be the DIY Recovery portion of this post.

We recalled when Momma had torn rotator cuff surgery back in 2001, she was in Gwinnett hospital in Lawrenceville, GA, for 4 days. Granted, she had 20 years of age on Mr. T, but still. Of course, technology has advanced and allowed health care to make advances we couldn't imagine 12 years ago. And, for sure it is better to be home rather than in a hospital...you can catch some nasty stuff in a hospital, especially when your system is weak and vulnerable following surgery. But still...

Oh well. This too shall pass...if I don't hurt Mr. T further or pass out while carrying out my nurse assignment. He's trying to figure out how we can bill Blue Cross/Blue Shield for my medical services. Gloves and all. Oh, don't forget the bandaid I have to apply to the site.

Me? I'm taking one day at a time. Today has been pretty rough for Mr. T, as he cannot get comfortable, and he is extremely agitated about it. We've tried everything, from pain meds to ice packs (3 different kinds) to deep breathing and relaxation techniques. His surgery was more extensive than anticipated, lasting nearly 3 hours. Dr. L repaired a torn biceps tendon in addition to the torn rotator cuff, and he cleaned out a mass of inflamed tissue...which seemed to concern him the most. "Puzzles me," were his exact words when he talked to me while Mr. T was in recovery. He said he had sent a sample to pathology. We shall see on that.

I'll guess I'll just have to pull a Scarlet about the looming private duty nurse duty. I won't think about that today. There's always tomorrow...

Let the Healing Begin

Just in case you, my dear reader, didn't get the word via email or Facebook, I wanted to post an update on Mr. T's knee surgery this morning on my blog. That should cover ALL bases, I think.

From Facebook:

From my email:

'The patient is home, resting comfortably, and enjoying those final effects of anesthesia. He has three dogs providing complete bed-top protection. On our way home, we made swing-by stops at the drug store (pain meds), medical equipment store (crutches), and Jimmy John's (lunch!)...so we are settling in for our siesta.

Several asked about the impacted bone. As I understand the situation, the dr believes the original "trauma" (unknown) that caused the torn medial meniscus (left knee) also caused a stress-like fracture of the tibia where fragments of bone were driven into each other (impacted). Clear as mud. Anyway, the treatment is a form of decompression (keeping as much weight off the bone/knee as possible) for an extended period...hence the 4 weeks on crutches.  I hope I didn't butcher that explanation too badly.

Thanks for all the prayers, well-wishes, and glad tidings. Hugs!'

And now, since I've been up-and-at-'em since 4:30 a.m., I think I'm going to take a look at the back of my eyelids for the next hour or so. Sleep while the baby...or in this case, the patient...sleeps, as our wise pediatrician once told me. 

No truer words...