I awaken at 3:00 am in excruciating pain and take two vicodin, then sleep in until 7:30. Both knees are throbbing. They are still wrapped in compression bandages and are the size of cantelopes. I have no ankles, just calves that continue down to my little sausage toes. I have to pee again. This will become the bane of my existence for the next couple of days because I must sit up (which means scootching to the edge of the couch -- try it with no legs), bend my knees (which have thick bandages on them restricting their bendability), fully weight bear on throbbing knees as I stand up while simultaneously grabbing both crutches. Then I slowly, slowly, move down the hallway to our powder room. The room is tiny and my knees don't bend enough to face forward, so I lower myself with my arms and sit sideways. The whole procedure is repeated to get to my bed on the couch. The day is spent flat on my back, knees and ankles propped. They have given me ankle exercises to prevent blood clots. I do my ankle exercises as best I can given the swelling.
Hubby does not bring me breakfast. Instead he makes himself breakfast and sits in the kitchen to eat. I'm starving but too tired to insist. When he's finished he asks if I want anything. At this moment I realize that I am going to have to get my muscles in shape quickly. This is not callousness on his part, it is his take on the situation: Make her work for it. I had one of those moms.. "Don't be ridiculous, you can do it!" I take a Vicodin and wait a half hour, then get up and hobble to the kitchen table. Hubby makes me a bowl of cheerios and a cup of coffee.
I hate to bring it up, but the birds outside need to be fed (I don't consider them depending on me for their life, but I like to keep them around and they go away for a while if they aren't fed.) More importantly the pond fish need to be fed... and counted. The conversation goes like this:
"Could you feed the birds?"
"They'll survive."
"I know, but they'll go away."
He teases me. "Ohhhhh.. I can see them out there holding up signs 'feed us, feed us! We're getting weak!'
dagger stare.. look of disbelief... pause.. trying to figure out my strategy...
"Did you see that there are two waterlilies blooming?"
"No, I don't really look."
"Well could you look and see if there are more buds coming up?"
"I will when I go to feed the fish."
This is a good turn because Hubby likes the fish -- there are a dozen fish. The majority are shubunkins; fancy white, black, and orange spotted Japanese goldfish. Then there are a couple comets (also fancy goldfish), a couple fantails (one black), and a lion head (also a fancy goldfish) If he feeds the fish, he'll feed the birds. He waits about 20 minutes, then goes and feeds the fish. I watch from the couch until he comes back in.
"I fed the fish. They were hungry."
"I bet, they missed eating yesterday. Did you count them."
"WHAT? Why would I count them???"
"To make sure they are all there.."
"Where would they go?? They're fish in a backyard pond!!"
"I dunno.. raccoon, heron, skimmer.. uh.. I always count them."
"They're too fast."
He goes into the garage, which I know means he is going off to feed the birds. He feeds them twice the amount of normal, but that means no need to feed the next day. There will be a little leftover.
This is not a good day. I am in a lot of pain, and the Vicodin only barely touches it. Mostly it makes me drowsy enough to sleep through it. I have to force myself to get up and move around a few times. I want to be back on my feet as quickly as possible, but I can barely move. Daughter comes over and makes a wonderful dinner. Girls are such a blessing! (I would NOT have said that 10 years ago.) I decide I want to sleep upstairs, and I try to climb the stairs with a crutch in one hand, pulling myself up on the bannister. I make it up two steps and know I can get no farther. I hobble back to the couch and flop onto it without bending my knees. My behind, and the back of my legs feel sunburned from lying in one spot for so long. The compression bandages, which I must leave wrapped until 48 hours after surgery, are digging into my thighs. I fall asleep looking forward to removing them in the morning.
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