Three Weeks Post LPAO

It is now three weeks post-LPAO. At this point last time I had a giant leap in progress. This time, progress on the left hip is just steady and slow. I think the difference (again) is that Dr. Millis didn't have to go into the joint capsule on this left side. The first three weeks of horrendousness after my RPAO probably had a lot to do with the joint capsule having to heal up and stabilize. So while my first three weeks post-LPAO felt better than my first three weeks post-RPAO, I think the recoveries are pulling even now.

PAIN and its MEDICATION

My pain is generally very low. Most of the day I am in little to no pain. I usually wake up with pain around 4 or 5 in the morning, but once I take a Percocet I can make it quite a while until the next one. That ligament (or whatever it is) is still bugging me from time to time, but not nearly as much as it was last week, when it hurt at every step. Now it is just an occasional pinch from time to time.

Sleeping is still not fantastic, but is getting better. I still wake up a few times a night when I have to roll over. I can comfortably sleep on my right (non-op) side for long stretches at a time. The pain gets worse towards the morning when the previous night's bedtime Percocet has worn off. Last night, in a fit of madness, I tried to roll onto my left side. Ouch. I'm not quite ready for that yet.

I am gradually stepping down on the painkillers. This past week I discontinued the Oxycontin altogether and I have been averaging 4 Percocet/day (day being 24-hour period, in this case). I am still taking the Valium as needed.

I haven't stopped Atarax but I think I will this coming week. My hospital rash is long gone and the itchy-red-spots are pretty much gone as well. Just some residual itching here and there.

MOVEMENT

Movement is generally the same as last week. Now that the ligament pain (or whatever it was) has let up, I am less reluctant to crutch around. I have even left the house for dinner at a restaurant and other adventures. I am good on my crutches (after much practice!) and I am strong from my pre-surgery fitness level, so moving around is not a problem when the ligament is not bothering me. Some chairs are still uncomfortable, but I can find ways to sit to minimize the pain.

Because I seem to be healing so fast, I have been entertaining delusions of perhaps getting off crutches earlier this time. But I think that is probably not going to happen. I have been ahead in the healing game with this PAO because of the joint capsule -- but cut bones are still cut bones and they are going to take as long to heal on the left side as they did on the right. So I'm just going to be in this I-feel-fine-I-just-can't-walk limbo phase for longer this time. Great.

INCISIONS

Both my incisions look great: click the links for the pictures. The one that really matters is the right side, since that will be my permanent scar on that side. On the left side they will open the scar back up again to get the screws out in a few months anyway, so who cares what it looks like now.

MOOD

My mood is good; mostly stressed. I have had to work a lot during this recovery and it is leaving me with less time to read and relax than I had during my recovery this spring. It is also draining. In the evening I feel like I am going to collapse from exhaustion once I log off work. Another reason I am not getting as much reading done this time around. Happily there's the holiday weekend coming up so maybe I can get through a book.

Next week is my 1 month post-op in Boston. How the time flies as I limp along behind it.

Two Weeks Post LPAO -- Pain & Itching

Today is two weeks from the date of my LPAO, and I have been home from the hospital for a full week. It has been a bit different than my first week home after my RPAO, which you can read about here and here.

For one thing, my activity level my first week home after this surgery was much higher, and not by choice. After my RPAO, I spent the majority of my first week at home sedentary, reading or sleeping in a couch or bed, moving only when necessary. This past week, I had to work full time the whole week. I was, of course, working remotely from Connecticut, not going into the office. But still, that meant sitting upright in a chair at a desk most of the day, and moving around a lot more than I had done in March. Having to work couldn't be helped, but I do think I could have used a bit more sedentary reclining last week.

My pain has been generally well-managed, except for sometimes sharp pain in two specific places. In March, what pain I had would migrate, popping up in different places every time. This time, the pain is localized in two places: the back of my hip joint (it feels like deep inside where my left buttock meets the top of my thigh, maybe the cut in the ischium?), and above my tailbone, on left side, just above my left buttock.

The former pain has lessened over the course of the week and by now is pretty much resolved. The latter pain is much more common and more severe than the former. That pain above my left buttock is almost constant when I am crutching (each time I take a "step" with my left leg, I feel pain there) and can ache while I am sitting in chairs or lying down, especially if I have just been crutching. I have no idea what it is, it doesn't seem to be located near the surgery site at all. I've got an email in to Dr. Millis asking about it.

My best guess is that there is something going on with the sacrotuberous ligament. That would make sense since one of the hamstring muscles originates from that ligament. Maybe when I step a certain way and activate that muscle, it pulls on the sore ligament? Now why the ligament is sore in the first place is a totally different question. Unless of course it is because that ligament connects the sacrum to the tuberosity of the ischium -- the ischium, of course, being the potential source of my other pain described above and one of the bones cut during a PAO. Gosh, surgeons must love it when patients play doctor using Wikipedia.

Moving on. Unlike on my right side after my RPAO, there is no numb spot on my left thigh after my LPAO. Probably because they didn't have to move the nerves around on the left side.

My incision on the left side is fine. The dressing itches sometimes but not too often. It is not generally tender, although earlier in the week it did feel a bit bruised if I pressed gently on my hip near the top of the incision. We have not changed the dressing on the left side. I imagine it will come off some time this week.

My incision on the right side (where the screws were taken out) does not bother me at all. Obviously it was a much shallower cut than the left side. Its dressing came off on Saturday, but the steri-strips remain.

In the hospital I did have some swelling in the hip area on the left side, and my left foot and lower leg swelled up like the blueberry girl in Willy Wonka for a while. But all that swelling is gone now.

My current pain medication regimen is:

-- 1 Oxycodone every 5 hours during the day
-- 1 Oxycontin twice daily
-- 1 Valium as needed during the day
-- 1 Oxycodone and 1 Valium kept at bedside if needed for pain during the night

It is more pain medication than some other PAO women have taken at this point in their healing, but as I wrote a few days ago, I am not being a sissy; I just seem to need more pain medication than most. I am not worried; I will step it down when I am ready, just as I did in March after my RPAO. But currently, especially with that frequent upper buttock pain, I need pain relief.

As I explained in March, the Oxy painkillers do not make me feel mentally foggy in the slightest. Only the Valium makes me a bit scatterbrained and sleepy, so I never take it when I am working, or trying to concentrate on something important like Gossip Girl.

My horrible skin rash has subsided. Probably primarily because I am not laying in those hospital sheets anymore. Earlier in the week I was applying the prescription steroid rash cream twice daily, but since the rash seems to have been vanquished, I've essentially stopped with them now.

Alas, when one itch dies, another is born. Again I am plagued with the itchy-red-spots problem I had in March, probably a side-effect of the pain medications. I am taking Atarax (thrice daily) to combat the itch, and I also try not to scratch. I carry around Sarna lotion and put that on every time I have an urge to scratch. Needless to say, I am very moisturized. It seems to be working because I feel like I have a few fewer itchy red spots than I did mid-week.

I still take aspirin, but I never wear my TED stockings. No one told me I had to. I wore them on the car ride home from the hospital but that was it.

Recovery Day 4 -- Wireless!

Last night was a terrible night because of the rash. Even though I finally got some steroid creams last night, the itching and discomfort was hardly vanquished, and I had to keep calling for Nubain and Benadryl in between my steroid cream applications.

This morning I wanted nothing more than to leap out of bed, have a shower (preferably stripping away several layers of rash-infested skin in the process) and then marinate myself in steroid cream. Last time I had this operation, I absolutely dreaded getting out of bed because it was so painful and logistically difficult. I think the rash is worse this time around, but I know that getting into and out of bed is somehow much less difficult, so it makes sense that I'm much more amenable to getting out of bed.

Nonetheless, I spent most of my morning in bed, working. So much for taking off from work for two weeks after surgery! Dr. LaReau stopped by to check on me, I ate some fruit salad, time passed.

At 10 my catheter came out. With that, I was wireless! No more leads, IVs, drains, nothing. Just me and my rash.

Finally Kimber came for PT, and it was time to get out of bed again. It went better this time; I was more confident with the limits of what I could do, and I also trusted Kimber more. Once up and in my wheelchair, I was taken to the PT room to try walking on the parallel bars. Again, I was pretty confident about it -- after all, this had been a less invasive surgery and I had already done this learning-to-walk-again thing before.

As all you proverb fans probably guessed, it went terribly. At least I felt it did. Just like in March, I couldn't slide my op-side foot forward to save my life. I was so disappointed and confused. This time they didn't cut that muscle! It is supposed to work! Why can't I move my foot?! Kimber helped me slide my op-side foot forward for each "step" but it just felt like cheating. I couldn't do it myself. The whole endeavor hurt my hip and my pride and I felt like a sad failure. I had thought it would be so much easier than in March and it wasn't.

At least when I got back to my room my sheets were changed. But I didn't get to take that long-awaited shower because (of COURSE) I got the only room on the floor with a bathtub instead of a walk-in shower. Perfect. So I had to wait for a new room to open up so I could switch rooms to take a shower. Which meant getting back into bed to stew in my own boiling skin for a few more hours.

I have been on oral pain medication since the epidural came out yesterday, but I still feel like they are not yet covering my pain properly. There are "gaps" where the pain comes through and when I ask if it is time for some more medicine I end up having an hour or more to wait.

Just like in March, I feel like I always have more pain than I "should" have. I know it is probably in my head, but I just get this vibe from people like they think I can't possibly be in pain when I am taking "so much" medication. But I am not exaggerating my pain. When I ask for medication, it is because the pain is at a distracting level, like 5 to 7. Actually, earlier today, when I told one of my nurses my pain had returned and asked if I could have some more medicine she looked at her watch and sort of sighed disapprovingly and said "you are already on a lot of medication..." It sucks to feel simultaneously like a sissy and a junkie.

At around 15:00 two doctors from dermatology came to look at my rash. They didn't take any photos so I guess they were "the deciders." After some chin-stroking they presented exactly no new ideas and no new solutions. So once again dermatology comes up a day late and a diagnosis short. Give me my steroid creams and go away now please.

In the afternoon I got out of bed again for a second session of PT with Kimber. Needless to say, I was not feeling positive about it, but since I had to get out of bed to get my shower anyway, I figured I might as well hit the parallel bars along the way. For some reason, this time it all went much better. Kimber still had to help me move my left foot forward, but at least it felt like I was contributing this time.

And so I earned my reward. Ahh, a shower and a steroid cream body mask. What a spa treatment. After that I was feeling (and looking) much better, so when Dr. Millis stopped by this evening he was happy to see me looking revived. He said everything is going so well that I might even get discharged tomorrow afternoon. The only things left on my to-do list are final x-rays and showing PT I can climb stairs on crutches. And we all know I can do that. Right?

Recovery Day 3 -- Dermatology Phones it In

This morning my epidural was turned off at 6:00 and I was started on the oral medication cocktail of oxycontin, oxycodone (Percocet) and Valium.

At 7:00 Dr. LaRue came in to check my dressings and I showed him my growing rash. The itching had increased throughout the day yesterday and I could feel that the nubbly, swollen heat rash had begun again, just like last year. ::Sigh::

So far the itching caused by the pain medication has been treated with Nubain and Benadryl, and we've been trying to prevent any rash or further skin irritation with frequent sheet changings and sponge baths, but there is only so much that can be done. I think the rash was inevitable.

As soon as I mentioned the onset of the rash, I was given some over the counter anti-itch cream, but I couldn't get anything stronger until a dermatologist looked at the rash. My experience from last time told me that this would not be happening with anything resembling efficiency.

At 8:00 pain services came again (smartly this time with only one intern in tow) to check on my pain levels with the oral meds. My hips were holding steady between about 1 and 4, depending on movement and time since last dosage.

After all that frantic morning activity I fell asleep until 11:30. I ate a fruit salad for lunch. That is worth mentioning because back in March I had no appetite at all in the hospital and I barely ate anything other than broth until about Friday or Saturday of that week. This time I ate fruit salad the day after the surgery and have eaten a little bit each day since then. Not a lot of food, but a soup here, some fruit there, etc. And that must be good, right?

After lunch, I signed back on to work for a few hours to fight some fires.

Speaking of fighting fires, by early afternoon the monstrous red blotchiness was in full bloom across my back, flanks, buttocks, and down the backs of my legs from my thighs to calves. It had even begun creeping around the front of my left upper thigh and across my stomach. All the while itching violently in hot, angry welts. Although it was clearly the same rash I'd had while recovering in the hospital in March (and therefore my chart already listed all the appropriate steriod creams necessary to soothe it), a dermatology consult was requested.

Meanwhile, Kimber from PT came to help me get out of bed for the first time since my surgery. It went relatively well, despite being herky-jerky and a bit nerve-wracking, and so I spent most of the afternoon sitting in a recliner chair enjoying a break from my hospital bed and waiting for the dermatologist to show up. And waiting. And waiting.

At 18:00 Dr. LaRue stopped by to check on me and took a look at my rash, which was by then much worse than when he'd seen it in the morning. He said he'd personally order up all the dermatology meds that had been used on me in March, and would also make sure dermatology was on its way.

I literally sat in that chair for three hours waiting for dermatology to show up and tell me I had a rash (surprise!), and prescribe me the medications I'd already taken a year ago for the same condition, and that Dr. LaRue had already ordered. Not only was the dermatology consult disrespectfully tardy, but the person dermatology ultimately sent was an intern who just took photos of my rash and threw out a couple of inapplicable but complex-sounding diagnoses that ultimately translated into things like "blocked sweat glands." I suppose blocked sweat glands are what led me to be steweing in a pool of my own sweat for the last few days, right? Eventually the dermatology intern went into a back room to call her attending so she should get coached on what to say to us. Impressive. At least I should finally get some steroid creams out of the ordeal.

Overall, today was physically miserable because of the discomfort and frustration due to the rash, but from a strictly orthopedic perspective it was a great day with good pain control during the switch from epidural medication to oral medication, and a successful adventure out of the bed and into the chair for a few hours. Moreover, with the removal of the epidural, I also got to remove all the leads monitoring heart rate, breath rate, etc., so that means a night free of strangling wires and beeping machines and one more step towards wireless freedom.

Three Weeks Post-Op

It is now three weeks post-op and things have definitely improved. Pain is down (as is pain medication), movement is up, and the incision looks amazing. Next week I go up to Boston for my 1-month-post-op visit and then we'll see how much progress I've made internally as well.

PAIN and its MEDICATION

I have far less pain now than I did a week ago, and I get by on far fewer painkillers per day. This past week I have been taking an Oxycontin twice a day, morning and evening, and filling in with Vicodin three times during the day; yesterday I dropped it down to only two Vicodin during the day. This past week I also stopped taking the Valium all together.

Because of the reduction in medication, I don't have the same skin reactions as I did before, so I have stopped taking the Atarax (although I still use the topical rash cream morning and evening in the relevant areas).

My pain is generally very low. Most of the day I am in little to no pain; towards the afternoon I start to feel an ache and that is when I take the Vicodin. If I am going out to something I usually take a Vicodin beforehand as protection, as Dr. Millis suggested, and then I am able to sit through dinners and events with no problem. I sleep well, not waking up too often, and I don't wake up with too much pain in the mornings.

Overall there has been a huge improvement on the pain front this week. Actually Dr. Millis predicted this would happen. When we spoke a week ago he said that I would probably notice a sudden lifting of pain over the next week or so; a disappearance of the constant aching pain that I'd had since the surgery. And so I did.

MOVEMENT

I have made great strides (sorry) in the movement department as well. With the reduction in pain, and the knowledge that I am not overly numbed with pain medication and am not likely to do anything that will "ruin" the surgery, I feel much less nervous about my right leg in general.

I can bend carefully in more directions and at sharper hip angles without the prior pinching; I can move my right (operated) leg out to the side or in across my other leg a little bit (not talking huge ballet swings here, maybe 20 degrees in each direction?); I can rotate my right foot inwards and outwards when my leg is stretched out before me. I can lift and move my leg more often now (which is still not that often) without using my arms to assist, but I can also tell that many of the muscles around my hip are (not surprisingly) very weak indeed and, once I get the go-ahead, are going to need some rehab work.

One thing I have not noticed with any of my increased movements is popping, grinding, clicking, snapping or any other Rice Krispies sounds or feelings coming from my hip. Perhaps that will come with larger movements, but so far so quiet.

I know that I have put a little more than the allowed weight on the operated leg at times (by accident) in the past week and I haven't had any pain result from those brief occasions. I am still under the hospital-discharge instructions to put no more weight on my operated leg than the weight of the leg itself (i.e. resting my foot on the floor), so that is what I do, but it feels like I am ready to put some more weight on the operated leg.

Honestly, with my pain so low and my movement so improved, sometimes this whole surgery/recovery/crutches thing feels fake. Like I could just throw my crutches aside and walk if I wanted to. I suppose that is a dangerous feeling because it could lead to me acting carelessly with a hip that, while feeling much better, is by no means even close to completely healed.

But it seems my naive pre-surgery superhero feelings have begun to resurface -- the ones that made me think this recovery wouldn't be that bad at all (at least not for *me*) and the ones that are making me think the doctor is going to tell me I can throw away the crutches and walk when I go see him on Tuesday. Thank God my parents never got me a Wonder Woman costume for Halloween as a child; I probably would have jumped off a building expecting to fly.

INCISION

One great reminder that none of this is fake at all is the five-inch scar across my abdomen. All the steri-strips are off and it looks amazing, see for yourself. Dr. Millis must have used skin glue or something because the incision has healed together so smoothly and so quickly. But I can't get too excited about it: he is going to reopen it to get the screws out eventually, and I don't know that it will heal up so nicely the second time around.

MOOD

I am in good spirits most of the time, especially now that the pain and itching have lessened and I've gotten more relaxed about the movement of my hip. I am not bored in the slightest: on the contrary I am relishing the opportunity to read voraciously in various media and keep up with my favorite TV shows and movies. This is the part of me that is hoping that the doctor does *not* tell me to throw away the crutches and walk next week. I'm not done with my pile of books yet!

Nevertheless, the bookworming has slowed down in the last couple of weeks as I'm back to working almost full days now during the week. I feel up to it mentally and so far I think I have been doing as good a job as I would be doing if I were physically in the office. Probably better, since I am comfortable and only have a 13-stair commute.

Two Weeks Post-Surgery: Pain & Medication

My pain is generally well-managed but there is a lot of it still lurking below the painkiller block. When the pain does break through, it has usually moved to one or another of its favorite places to surface -- sometimes over the incision, sometimes on the outside of my hip, sometimes deep within the joint, sometimes at the top of my iliac crest (where I think there is a screw head), sometimes in the back of my hip joint (deep inside behind the bottom of my right buttock), sometimes shooting itself like a racing stripe down the outside of my thigh, knee and calf.

There is still a numb spot about the size of my hand on the outside of my thigh, right below where the greater trochanter of the femur sticks out to form the widest part of the hip. The numb spot is normal; Dr. Millis said they have to move a significant nerve aside when they are doing the surgery, and this causes some damage to the nerve that gradually repairs itself over a few months. But there will be a steadily receding numb spot there until the nerve has completely healed.

My incision is usually the least of my problems. It is not generally tender, but it itches sometimes under the dressing, and as I mentioned above, it does sometimes hurt. We changed the dressing two days ago, so I saw the scar (through the steri-strips, which means I didn't see much). Not much to report until I really see it when the dressing and the steri-strips come off. The dressing is set to come off this Thursday.

There does not seem to be much swelling at all in the hip area or the leg on my operated side. I am not even sure there was that much swelling in the hospital.

My current pain medication regimen is:

-- 1 Oxycodone every 5 hours during the day
-- 1 Oxycontin twice daily
-- 1 Valium at bedtime
-- 1 Valium kept at bedside if needed for pain during the night

Some PAO bloggers I have read have been on less medication (or less frequent dosing) by this point in their recoveries, so I'm not sure why I'm still needing such high or frequent amounts of pain medication. I have, on occasion of missing a dose or taking a dose too late, had breakthrough pain, and it is not at all tolerable -- about a 5 on my pain scale if I let it get too far. Since leaving the hospital I have stepped down to one Oxycodone every five hours instead of two every four hours, and have switched to taking Valium at nights instead of Oxycodone.

Unlike others, however, I don't find the painkillers make me feel mentally foggy in the slightest. Only Valium makes me a bit scatterbrained and sleepy, which is why I take it at nights now and leave the Oxys for the daytime. But on the current regimen I have been reading varied, mentally stimulating books and magazines, playing (and winning) fierce games of Trivial Pursuit and staying generally awake and alert all day, save an afternoon nap. So I'm in no rush to get off the pain killers for any philosophical or mental acuity reasons, I just find it interesting that others have weaned off them tolerably so much more quickly than I seem to be doing.

Of course, one must consider that my surgery took seven hours rather than the four and a half hours Dr. Millis had originally predicted, and my bones were, according to him, incredibly strong and difficult to cut. I have five screws rather than the usual number of three most often used in these operations. Also, I came out of surgery with an elbow injury on top of the hip situation (and then there was the heat rash!), so maybe my body's healing department has had a lot a lot of balls in the air and that is why my pain has been persisting longer than that of my PAO peers. Or maybe everyone is different in their healing and it is what it is.

Speaking of heat rash, I've been applying the prescription rash cream twice daily since I left the hospital. The dragonhide that formed after the fiery welts I had in the hospital has completely flaked off by now and the marks of the rash are reportedly looking much better and almost dissipated.

The itchy-red-spots problem (which apparently is a side-effect of the pain medications, although I have not read of similar reactions among any of my PAO peers) persists, but seems to have been lessening steadily. For that I try (usually unsuccessfully) not to scratch at the spots and I apply Gold Bond lotion twice daily. Mostly it feels like I have a mild but chronic case of chicken pox.

I am also still taking the Atarax pills (twice daily) that I was taking when I left the hospital for the itching/spots. I think I will reduce the Atarax as the pain medications are reduced.

I was never given Lovenox or even Coumadin at the hospital, just aspirin, so I keep taking that once daily to keep my blood thin and clot-free as I'm healing. I stopped wearing my TED stockings after a few days at home. Even in the hospital they weren't very tight and didn't seem to be doing anything that a pair of drug-store knee-highs couldn't do. Plus, no one told me I had to wear them when I got home.

First Week Home

I've been back at home for four days now. The routine is really one of keeping me comfortable, clean, and as pain-free as possible. I would not say I have been progressing in leaps and bounds.

The pain is variable. At times it is quite bad and I am unable to focus on anything else until the medication kicks in; at other times it is more manageable. Sometimes the variation seems to be related to movement (crutching around, showering, etc.) but sometimes not. I suppose that is how it is these first weeks when things are shifting and mending and moving about in there.

When I was first taught to crutch by the PT tech at the hospital, the instruction was to put all weight on the left (non-op-side) foot, move the crutches forward a foot or so, slide my right (op-side) foot forward (toes slightly up so as not to snag on the carpet) until it is even with the crutches, then lean almost all my body weight on the crutches (only bearing 1/6th of my body weight on my op leg -- basically the weight of the leg itself) and follow by bringing my non-op-side foot even with my op-side foot and the crutches.

At first I couldn't slide my op-side foot forward at all. The muscle just wasn't there. I would stare at the foot and try to THINK it forward but I just couldn't get any muscles to respond to slide it forward. I had to get the foot where it was going by leaning forward so the weight momentum would swing it forward to meet the crutches, or by creeping forward along the floor with the toes, or some other cheat.

But by now whatever hip flexor/quad muscle was not firing before is working to slide my right foot forward as I crutch. So that is progress! I can slide my op-side foot forward six inches across the floor. Trophy please!

Crutching is very tiring. Standing on one leg is also very tiring. Pretty much everything I do that is movement requires so much effort by every single part of my body except my right leg that I am exhausted after the smallest feats. A shower, a staircase, a switch of positions... all of it requires a rest period afterwards, and sometimes some Valium if the movement has caused muscle cramps or extra pain.

I can sleep on my left side for long periods (i.e. more than an hour = long) during the night and switch from lying on my back to lying on my left side on my own. It is neither easy nor comfortable to do so, but I can do it. There are times when sleeping on my left side is far more comfortable than sleeping on my back, but combining the words sleeping and comfortable is still an exercise in oxymoronism.

I have not made any progress at all with the itching, however. I must be reacting to one of the medications, but I just itch all the time. Not the same as the heat rash, but just like itching little red bumps everywhere. I am still taking Atarax (which I was taking in the hospital for the heat rash) so the itching is supposedly being controlled, but you could fool me.

Another strange thing I have noticed is wild temperature fluctuations. I swing from freezing cold to complete hot flashes in what seems like fifteen minute intervals. Makes dressing very difficult but I'm learning to love layers. I think this must also be some some sort of medicine reaction.

My dressing is beginning to peel off so I've got an email in to the doctor to find out when that can come off. It is pretty much deciding the timing itself at this point, but I don't want to just rip the rest of it off without his permission.

Other than that, no news from the home front.

Transitioning Hospital to Home

Saturday involved more physical therapy, now including walking with crutches, as well as in the parallel bars. All of it is still very very tiny amounts of movement -- 3 stairs here, 12 crutch-steps there. Nothing like what I'm going to have to be prepared to do when I go home. They train you "how" to do the motions but they don't work on strengthening you to handle how much your muscles are going to have to be doing by the time you are moving. It is all well and good to practice 3 stairs, but my house has 13 to get from first to second floor. But I suppose form is most important; I'll have plenty of "on the job" training as soon as I get out of here. I was not sent home with any PT "prescription" or any discussion of types of exercises I should focus on at all.

Today (Sunday) I go home around noon, after having spent seven days in the hospital (including the day of surgery). By now my pain is pretty well managed with oxycontin and oxycodone. My PT is progressive in the sense that I can now walk more steps and even handle some stairs, up and down. But the heat rash itching has not gotten any better despite the creams and powders.

Last night I managed to fall asleep on my left (non-operated) side for about an hour, but had to be rescued like a beached whale when it was time to be rolled over onto my back again. Of course when I woke up I had that same strange "where am I" feeling I always have had in the hospital, and the concern that I'd woken up in a dream (rather than FROM a dream), if you know what I mean. That has happened to me more than once while here at the hospital, like there must be some other alternate reality that I am missing just before I wake, and in that other reality I don't wake up every day in a gown on a gurney scratching my back raw. Also -- and this must be the drugs -- every time I wake up I feel like I'm in a different room. Very similar to my other hospital room, but a different room nonetheless.

The doctors came by early this morning on rounds (as usual) and I was completely out of it and falling asleep in the middle of conversations (as usual). That is so very embarrassing. Patients are never nodding off like junkies in the middle of coversations with Dr. Gregory House, for example. Unless it is important for their differential diagnoses.

I am ready to go home. I don't think this hospital bed has much more to offer me (other than the trapeze, which I will sorely miss).

All the paperwork has been done for my release; Dr. Millis himself wheeled me to the door and wished me well (I'll see him in three weeks for follow up anyway) and was very sweet about everything. Some of the nurses seemed genuinely sad to see me go, and say that they have requested me as a patient for next time (which I have to think is a lie, can you even do that?)

My mother and I got on the road about 1pm and stopped for a coffee/restroom break at McDonald's on the way. It was my first time in public on the crutches and it is just a joke how slowly I move on crutches. People must think I'm kidding -- I look healthy and strong enough, and yet I'm heaving like a cast Clydesdale and I'm moving about 6 inches a minute. I couldn't make eye-contact with anyone at the McDonalds because I have to study the ground for each step and think so hard about my muscles, so I don't know if anyone was staring or not, but this one poor kid did have to hold the door for me for like 5 minutes as I snailed my way through. Bet he regretted that one.

The drive home was about three and a half hours; my leg kept jiggling or bouncing with the car's movements, plus I missed a painkiller while I was asleep during the journey, so needless to say I was in a world of hurt and exhaustion when we pulled in the driveway. It was all I could do to make it up the back steps to the den and pass out on the couch. After a while I had mustered enough strength to make it all the way upstairs to my room to sleep again.

Recovery Day 3 - My Back is Covered in Magma

Today my linens were changed again, but this time Dr. Millis himself was smart enough to be there for the actual changing -- I think he knew I'd throw a fit (because last time I was so nervous about the moving around and the sea-mammal-lifting scenario) and that my pride would probably cause me to suppress my panic in front of the head of the orthopedics department and therefore allow the deed to be done. Again I question why my linens needed to be changed less than 24 hours since their previous change. But anyway.

There were a lot of people around (male and female nurses); Dr. Millis was distracting me by talking about various unrelated things and giving me various meds while others were messing with the bed around and beneath me. So it all went far less terribly this time than my apprehensions had suggested. It also helped that my left elbow had healed enough that I could lift myself with its help from the trapeze, unlike last time.

My epidural was also taken out today, which was far less painful than I'd anticipated it would be. I suppose the epidural itself inside my back was quite small -- although I will say that it did affect how you could lean back in your seat, it had to be just right or it dug into your spine in quite the wrong way. A bigger coersion to removal was the tape around the epidural site and wires -- it itched crazily (a trend, you will see). But all went well and the epidural came out just fine and left almost no mark, as the hole in my spine had been so tiny. The epidural delivery system itself had been off since the morning anyway (meaning no medicine had been flowing through) as I was transitioning from that delivery system to my new oral meds.

The real, very distressing concern I had with removing the epidural had nothing to do with pain. Without an epidural (the wires for which had kept me in bed since the surgery), I no longer had any need for a urinary catheter, and without a catheter, I'd have get out of bed to use the toilet. (Sorry, I'm going to have to discuss catheter territory here...) So far, I hadn't had to get out of bed for anything, and, because I had a the luxury of a catheter, I'd kept myself very hydrated, drinking tons of water in addition to the IV fluids I was receiving on a 24 hour basis. I happened to be on the phone when the nurse who was sponge-bathing me mentioned something in passing about removing my catheter and began fussing around down in the catheter area. (Red flag just on its own.) Hold the phone, literally. I was not about to fall for that little she's-distracted-by-the-phone diversion trick. So I got off the phone and launched into a little whining parade, asking why I couldn't just keep the catheter until I learned to get out of bed safely. But I guess catheters are often the source of infection and so they should come out as soon as possible. Given the fear I'd already acquired about moving (even just enough to change my linens), and the amount of fluids I'd been drinking (consequence-free due to the catheter), I was actually prepared to accept the risk of a UTI (everyone likes cranberry juice, right?) over a constant (one-legged) Tigger-like bed to bathroom bouncing cycle. Alas, mine was the minority opinion and so the catheter too came out.

This meant that by Thursday afternoon I'd become almost totally wireless -- no leads, no epidural, no catheter, no IV-drips (although the IVs were still in place should they need to be hooked up to something or other).

This would all have been excellent progress except that Thursday also suffered from a timing problem. The day was supposed to have gone like this: get wireless, get a pint of my own blood transfused (for extra pizzazz!), get out of bed with PT's help, learn to use the rolling commode chair to get to the bathroom, rest on laurels. But instead, something got delayed with the blood and the schedule went more like this: get wireless, wait for the pint of own blood, inevitably have to go to the bathroom but no more catheter and no training in how to get out of bed (because PT wouldn't come until after I've gotten my pint of blood, of course, which makes perfect sense in Nonsense Land). For bathroom breaks I was forced instead to choose between pissing myself or using a bedpan, both choices I had planned to put off until at least my mid-80s.

The bedpan required me to hoist myself up on the trapeze, a nurse to position a plastic bowl-type thing beneath me, me to lower myself onto it and try to pee in it without missing and pissing all over my bed (which of course, could have been an option on its own, as you recall). Lots of people have to help set this bedpan scenario up for you and so you are not exactly left with any modesty while performing the task. It is mortifying and disgusting beyond belief, and honestly should be someone's episode of Fear Factor. Personally, I chose to add in the optional pre-bedpan temper tantrum (which does not lessen the bladder's needs) before succumbing to the bedpan option. I did, however, maintain what I thought was a shred of dignity by countenancing a complete, unabated, immature and utterly satisfying fury for the remainder of the day, and going on a water strike. All of which, I'm sure, showed them.

When you think of fury, you imagine, perhaps, Yosemite Sam's ruddy, seething face beginning to shake, or the way Acme characters' faces fill up red from the bottom until the very pate is reached and "TILT" begins to flash in their eyes. I am not going to say that in a similar manner my bedpan humiliation fury was physically manifested by the pulsing, hot, Habanero-like heat rash I was to suffer for the remainder of my hospital stay, but I'm not going to deny the metaphoric coincidence either.

As you may recall, during my feverish period described yesterday, my back would pour sweat and feel like an inferno, and I would stuff as many ice packs as possible back there to try to alleviate the situation. All that heat and pressure (despite the ice packs) eventually lead directly to a horrible, spreading, angry heat rash that inspired absolute insanity in me, removing my concern for hip pain, consideration of others, desire for food, drink, life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness and replacing it with a frantic desire to rip the skin off my back with any available shredding and/or rending type object(s). This frantic heat rash condition could be controlled slightly with various anti-itch medications, but would become a background tenet of my mood for the remainder of my stay.

So needless to say, Thursday was an angry day. Not only were my linens changed again in some sort of spasm of sadistic cleanliness, my back began to boil like a hot, itchy pool of magma, my catheter was removed before I knew how to get out of bed, and my dignity was stolen and beaten and ridiculed and tossed into a bedpan in front of male nurses.

On the plus side, I did get to have a shower.