First We Sterilize... Then We Sterilize Again!

As you know, I will be having my first knee replacement surgery tomorrow on my left knee.  My surgeon is well respected and came highly recommended by physical therapists (PTs) we know.  He works only with knees and has the semi-warm manner of a true surgeon.  I trust him and am very happy that this day has finally come.  Regardless, I am extremely nervous and can't wait until the anesthesia takes effect, so I can no longer change my mind and run screaming from the hospital. That said, I will take a deep breath... bring it on!

I have been practicing walking with a walker since Patty and I met with the PT in a classroom setting, along with 4 other folks up for knee surgery and their prospective caregivers.  The PT told us to get and use our walkers to practice walking, sitting, standing up, rising from bed, etc, before having our surgeries.  This has been a strange, but practical exercise.  The first thing I discovered is that I actually walk with more ease with the walker, as opposed to my cane (pre-surgery, of course.)  I should have suspected as much, since I also walk easier with a shopping cart, because it offers a two handed grip.

It has also been a frustrating exercise, because none of our chairs allow me to rise from them with ease, either because they are too cushioned, or too low to the ground, or both.  We discovered a perfect chair at Shamrock Medical Supply on SE Foster Rd, but it was not for sale.  It was merely for the use of their disabled customers while shopping.  We did measure it, to use as a reference point while searching for a chair to use at home.  It was 18" from floor to top of the hard cushioned seat and 24" from floor to top of the arms.  Unfortunately, we have not been able to locate a chair, new or used, or even one to borrow, that we can use at home.  Arrrrrgh!

Nevertheless, I am ready for the adventure to begin.  Truly, truly ready.  This morning I received a message from a friend who had read yesterday's blog post.  She assured me that the first 2 weeks would be extremely hard to bear and that I was allowed to scream when the physical therapists push my leg under the table.  Scary words from someone who went through this surgery last year.  Then she added, "Keep your eye on the goal, it does get much better, and you'll be pain free in no time without drugs."  

Thank you, my friend.  That is what I needed to hear.

So, now after a day of sterilizing everything in the house per instructions, Patty has changed the bedding so that I will sleep in fresh, clean, sterilized sheets tonight.  First, I have to take a shower and scrub my entire body with soap and shampoo.  Then, I have to apply Hibiclens all over my body and scrub yet again... leaving it on for 5 minutes before rinsing it away.  In the morning, I am to shower a second time, in the exact same way, again paying special attention to my left knee, and again leaving the Hibiclens on my body for 5 minutes before rinsing.  From there, I put on loose, extremely clean clothing and head to the hospital.

While in the hospital, Patty will come home at some point and change our bedding again, putting on fresh, clean, sterilized sheets for my first nigh home.  The coming days will be a dance of sterilization... fresh sheets, fresh clothes, fresh bandages, fresh, fresh, fresh.  Sterilize your hands before even thinking of coming near my knee... and that means me, too.  I may actually be more worried about the sterilization process, than the rehab exercises... lol.

Fortunately, I have a partner that is well versed in sterilization.  She knows her cleaning products and the techniques necessary to make my recovery, without infection, not only possible, but probable.  I will be in good hands.

Three Days and Counting...

The purpose of this blog is to record anything and everything having to do with my upcoming knee replacement surgery.  During the 10 years I have been waiting to take this step, I have collected as much information as I could to prepare myself for what is to come.  Regardless, no amount of preparation can take the place of the actual experience, which will be unique to me and my body.

I know that the surgery will leave me in a great deal of pain for at least 10-21 days, depending on who I talk to.  So I want to remember the sort of pain I am in now, so that I can more easily find my gratitude when the new pain sears my body... lol.

It's been almost two weeks now without any pain medication at all.  My doctor insisted on me being off the pain meds for two weeks before surgery, so that the pain meds he gives me after surgery will pack a bigger punch, which he says I will need.

I am unable to walk with any regularity and my knees are more wobbly.  My legs feel like large boulders that have been placed on top of smaller boulders.  As time erodes their precarious placement, it becomes easier for the larger boulders to wobble on their tiny mounts.  This oddity has often happened over time, always reminding me that my knees are diseased and riddled with arthritis, but without the Vicodin to cloak the pain, I appear to be more off balance than before.  Truly odd.

I can no longer walk through the pain and pretend I am fine, even though I limp.  Walking has become a major insult to my knees, beyond anything I have ever felt thus far, and that has been plenty.  Standing up from a sitting position is crazy.  I have to sway my torso back and forth like I am pumping a swing, before I am able to put any weight on my legs.  Once finally standing, I have to steady myself for an indeterminate period of time, before I can even get my legs to consider moving.  And, then, I clutch at anything I can reach... furniture, walls, doorjambs, people who happen to be nearby, etc... just to be able to move forward.  If I need to turn, one foot stays planted on the floor, while the other makes tiny, shuffling movements in a semi-circle to face the direction I need to go... sort of like the protractor and compass set I used in my elementary math lessons.

Finally, there is never a moment when I am without pain in both of my knees.  When I was using Vicodin and Ibuprofen, I could actually move through the pain sometimes with relative ease.  Now, every step is the one where I consider not walking forward anymore, because it is excruciating.  Every step is almost beyond bearable... and I only say almost, because obviously, I do keep moving, if only to avoid being run down in the street.

So, while in recovery after surgery, I want to remember what it was like before surgery, because I suspect gratitude on my part may be the only thing that will push me through my exercises and physical therapy, which my physical therapist has promised will make me want to cry.  Let the games begin.