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Two more days.
The stress is getting to me. I can't sleep. I have vivid nightmares and soaking sweats. I have no appetite. I've dropped between twelve and fifteen pounds in the last six weeks. Normally, I would cheer any weight loss, but this doesn't seem healthy.
On the bright side, the apartment looks great. Seatmate has been working nonstop on the heavy stuff. (I'm just amazed at how much he's done. Seriously.) I've been channeling my anxiety into lighter cleaning and organizing. I'm almost ready.
Tonight, we'll make piles of items for the hospital, including an immediate bag for the first few days and a later bag for when the epidural comes out and I can change out of the hospital gown. My hip and thigh will be swollen and I won't fit into my usual clothes. I'm planning to wear Seatmate's boxers and my own tank tops and t-shirts. I'll post my hospital-bag lists later, but for now, here's an excellent list from another patient's blog. Thanks for the help, Alycia.
I had actually been planning to spend my whole stay in hospital gowns, but my surgeon wants his patients to wear their own clothes as soon as they can. He thinks it improves the patient's mood and outlook. I trust him; he's been doing this a lot longer than I have.
Today is my last physical therapy appointment until several months after surgery. I'm so tired, but I'll be glad to get out. I want to walk while I can.
The Red Sox have looked like the Bad News Bears lately. I'm not terribly sorry that I'm missing some of today's afternoon game. I'll turn it on when I get home and laugh at them. What a season.
And... go.
The stress is getting to me. I can't sleep. I have vivid nightmares and soaking sweats. I have no appetite. I've dropped between twelve and fifteen pounds in the last six weeks. Normally, I would cheer any weight loss, but this doesn't seem healthy.
On the bright side, the apartment looks great. Seatmate has been working nonstop on the heavy stuff. (I'm just amazed at how much he's done. Seriously.) I've been channeling my anxiety into lighter cleaning and organizing. I'm almost ready.
Tonight, we'll make piles of items for the hospital, including an immediate bag for the first few days and a later bag for when the epidural comes out and I can change out of the hospital gown. My hip and thigh will be swollen and I won't fit into my usual clothes. I'm planning to wear Seatmate's boxers and my own tank tops and t-shirts. I'll post my hospital-bag lists later, but for now, here's an excellent list from another patient's blog. Thanks for the help, Alycia.
I had actually been planning to spend my whole stay in hospital gowns, but my surgeon wants his patients to wear their own clothes as soon as they can. He thinks it improves the patient's mood and outlook. I trust him; he's been doing this a lot longer than I have.
Today is my last physical therapy appointment until several months after surgery. I'm so tired, but I'll be glad to get out. I want to walk while I can.
The Red Sox have looked like the Bad News Bears lately. I'm not terribly sorry that I'm missing some of today's afternoon game. I'll turn it on when I get home and laugh at them. What a season.
And... go.