June 2017

S M T W T F S
    123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
252627 282930 

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
slidingsideways: (me)
Sunday, April 1st, 2012 04:15 pm
I have been back in Boston for a week.

My father must have been kicking some bacterial ass, because after twelve days of IV antibiotics, tests showed conclusively that he was winning. The home care nurse came stopped by that evening and took out his PICC line, which is like a long-term IV. The living room was cleaned of its medical workstation and returned to its rightful status. Dad started braving the basement stairs to do laundry (of course I would have; he didn't tell me) and found my missing sock. And I started thinking it was time to go home.

I kept feeling that way. My parents were doing fine. Something in me was out of gas. I took a shuttle home last Saturday and was sick and coughing twelve hours later.

It's just a cold, but I'm grateful that I didn't get either of my parents sick. I'm still taking cough medicine.

More recent tests show that my father is continuing to kick the crap out of whatever was trying to kill him. He keeps getting stronger, through probably not fast enough for him. I finally had time for a haircut and am slowly starting to work on the mail piles and paperwork around the apartment. I've gotten on the stationary bike a few times, gently, and my hip seems to be tolerant, if not enthusiastic.

Being in DC was like boot camp for my hip. I hadn't walked so much since before surgery. I certainly hadn't climbed stairs every day. By the time I left, I could climb them one after the other instead of right leg, stop, right leg, stop.

It's a huge mental boost to be so much stronger. I can't imagine my surgeon won't clear me for physical therapy now. I still have to get the screws taken out (outpatient procedure, several weeks of mild soreness in the hip bone) and the psoas tendon issue will probably limit me in little ways for another couple of months, but I feel like I can see the road stretching ahead of me for the first time since I decided I had to see a doctor four years ago.

What a long, strange trip it's been.
slidingsideways: (me)
Tuesday, November 30th, 2010 03:30 pm
Post-op day 111 / week 15.

Happy belated Thanksgiving (possibly not applicable outside the United States). I spent a lovely few days with my parents in DC.

I'm finally walking again, but not easily or far, so I arranged for a wheelchair to get me through the airport. My first wheelchair pusher was new to the job and unsure of standard security procedures. A TSO checking ID and boarding passes watched him fumble and said, "First day at the airport?"

I had never gone through security in a wheelchair, so I didn't know what to do beyond the usual (shoes, jacket, laptop, baggie). My options for forward movement stopped with a TSO and a backscatter machine. The TSO seemed to be waiting for me to stand up. I finally asked him what he wanted me to do.

"You got any metal implants in your body?" he asked.

"No. Uh, yes." I keep forgetting.

"Can you stand for a few seconds with your hands up?"

"Not without my crutches," I said. This is not entirely true, but close enough. Better a pat-down (which was inevitable) than a fall.

The TSO sighed irritably. "You got, like, a foot problem?"

"I have six titanium screws in my pelvis," I said. "I'll take a pat-down."

And I did. The TSO was very professional and didn't touch my junk (as it were), but what a drag. The return trip was the same song and dance, albeit with a more experienced wheelchair pusher. I think the current TSA procedures are bullshit, really. I'm lucky I don't have a prosthetic breast or a urostomy or an insulin pump (TSA reportedly told one traveler to "leave it at home" next time). There must be a better way to keep planes from blowing up than treating passengers like criminals.

Anyway.

I'm getting stronger. I'm using one crutch to get around at home. I never feel as though I'm really using it, but walking without it is ridiculously hard. Calling it a penguin walk would be kind; it's more of an unsettling lurch. Seatmate always thinks I'm going to fall.

The coolest part about being able to use one crutch is that I have one hand free. I can carry things! It's kind of awesome. Little victories keep me going.

I leave you with this video of crazy people doing gymnastics outside:

... and part two.