Three Weeks Past a Knee Replacement

Well, most of the excitement is now over, the worst of the pain is done, and I can actually put my knee under my pooter desk for a time.

They were right, it is an excruciating operation and the level of medication needs to be kept nice and high. I do have trouble getting comfortable in bed, and am still fighting a losing battle to get that blasted supporting pillow out from under my knee.

The hospital and nurses were exceptional and my surgeon was a delight to work with.

I did have a truly horrifying moment when I woke up and everything below my waist was dead; just couldn't feel a thing. I recalled I had a spinal anesthetic before going under, and it took about 4 hours to wear off after waking. The panic was huge, and I experienced the desperate need to move that spinal injury patients must have when they are trying to feel anything. Fortunately mine wore off.

I was lucky to be in with a pleasant woman who had exactly the same op as me, except she was number one on our surgeon's list. She was a policewoman who lived alone, and a little eccentric. We got on well all week, though she was a little prone to grumpiness at times, but none was directed at me.

We were out of bed on the second day and walking and showering on the third. Marvelous!!!

Six days later, I was out and home, and being fluffed over by my lovely man. Now three weeks today and although the knee could be bending a bit more, I am walking short distances without crutches and even driving the car, as it's an automatic. I actually went quietly around the supermarket yesterday without crutches, and it was great!

Now it's just physio to increase that bend and strengthen the supporting muscles. If I don't get a good result by the end of this month, I will be put back under anesthetic and the scar tissue will be broken up by manipulation. A good reason to work hard.

Just Wandering By............

I've been gone from for a time as I've been a bit focussed on other things. Sometimes you just need a mental change of scene.

At the beginning of July, I was mentally brutalised by my orthopedic surgeon yet again and made to feel six inches tall. My hand still won't form a fist and is making alarming cracking noises when rolled around. Looks like it's a bit stuffed long term, but I am going to a top hand specialist this Wednesday for a second opinion. The nasty man expressed his disappointment at it's condition and ventured that I hadn't pursued physio for long enough. Not true.

He also gave me the wonderful experience of a cortisone injection into the rapidly failing knee joint, and yes, it's true they hurt. Then he sent me away with my tail between my legs to become totally crippled with bone on bone and no cartilage.

So I rebelled and went to the Melbourne Orthopedic Group, the cutting edge specialists in the city, to the knee man. He was lovely and treated me like a real person, not some pathetic husk that pays for his holidays.

We now have a knee replacement planned as soon as the cortisone that was brutally administered into my knee has worn off. Apparently it can compromise the immunity of that area, leaving it more open to infection.

TAC has to approve the surgery, which hopefully, won't be a problem.

So September should be the date. A new knee! How exciting! I'll be resting up a bit for a while afterwards, so might catch up on my blog.

Ohhhhh.............

~ Chromed ~
Pastel on board
Beautifully framed in brushed silver moulding and white mount board.
Available for purchase @$600 + p.h.

I've got the gloomies today. Although all my surgeries have healed OK, I can feel my knee breaking down almost hour by hour, and the bones are crunching against each other in my wrist. It seems I have no cartilage left in either place ........................

And, my beautiful laptop, that I have really enjoyed for just over a year (out of warranty) has been rejected by my local computer fixer. I paid AU$4000 for the sucker. It may need a new motherboard and a visit to Toshiba.

Ho hum!

So Much to Do and So Little Time

Finally! I have approval from the TAC to have my knee exploratory arthroscope at the same time as the plate comes out of my wrist. I had my MRI last November, then Christmas, my surgeon's leave, letters to go to and fro between him and TAC, and finally a appointment for my case worker and their muscular-skeletal man this morning..... has led to an OK for me.

I might mention also, that my injury is 6 months old on the 9th of March.

I am really looking forward to putting it all behind me, and just getting together again, so when they offered me Thursday, I only hesitated for a second before agreeing.

I am also pleased that when it comes time to be assessed for compensation, my knee has also been accepted as part of the accident.

Now I must get myself together and do as many jobs in the next few days, that I can't do for a time afterwards, like bathing and clipping the poodles. Afterwards, I'm just going to stagger out to my studio and paint.............

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Leap year came and went with a joyous occasion, when a daughter decided to propose to her long time beau, and he accepted!

I heard on TV that morning where in olden days, the women would wear a red petticoat which showed their intentions. That way, if a man didn't want to accept, he would spot the flash of red as she came towards him and he could scarper off to the hills!

Fortunately, she doesn't wear petticoats, and he was pleased to be involved. There are rumblings about going somewhere unusual and a no-nonsense ceremony, so we're looking forward to discovering 'the plan'.

We wish them much love and happiness.

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My grandson and I had some fun over the weekend with the wire and snippers we bought him for his birthday. Armed with those, and the delightful blog Bent Objects, we raided the garden and built a beautiful Hawaiian lady, complete with cherry tomato bosoms and cucumber leaf umbrella.

We carted her home to his delighted mum and she will becoming the 'Incredible Shrinking Hawaiian Lady' on the kitchen window sill along with his other creations.

Great fun.

Knees Up

A trip to the surgeon yesterday to discuss treatment for my damaged knee, resulted in a planned arthroscopy in the near future for torn cartilage.

This man is quite intimidating, and I don't intimidate easily any more. He is tall, skinny, with a permanent lean forward, as if his tallness needs to be moderated, or that he is always on a mission in a hurry. He ploughs through his patients with rapid fire efficiency, dispensing only as much information as he thinks we need to know.

I know from the MRI report that I also have a cyst in the cartilage, which will need to be drained and repaired, but he didn't mention that. I am just assuming that he will get in there and have a good look around. I mentioned that my knee was 'clunking alarmingly', and he queried that, and I dismissed it. I'm pathetic!

Anyway, I limped out of there, a tragic diminished husk, hoping that he would discover the extent of the damage in the fullness of time. But I am angry at myself, as I knew how he would be, and I had pre-determined to overcome it.

He has agreed to take the plate out of my wrist at the same time, so long as an x-ray shows it has healed. The plate is set so high in the wrist joint it stops it from flexing properly, so must come out. My thumb, which I wondered was broken in the accident, still looks pretty flakey, but it's no longer as desperately painful, so must be healed by now.

On the way home, we stopped for an x-ray, which shows to my amateur eyes that the break has healed well.

Onwards and upwards .........

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I'm off to a funeral today, for a man who I have always called a 'rascal', and even his funeral notice said he was a 'scallywag'.

Mack loved the ladies, probably too much, as his wife called it quits because of his constant infidelities. I clearly remember one day maybe fifteen years ago, at my married friend's house, he came in and, ignoring my presence, kissed her hello, promptly putting his tongue down her throat. Needless to say, I proffered my cheek to him for a peck.

Women loved him back because of his flirting irreverence. Many men probably disliked him for all of the above.

He was deeply involved into the horse world, and was on the board of the Royal Melbourne Show, and the Melbourne Hunt Club, both very prestigious positions.

He loved the grog, and when he began to mow the lawns at a friend's beautiful gardens, she would breathalyse him before she let him on the ride-on. If he failed, he was demoted to the push mower.

At seventy-eight and stricken by cancer, I last saw him two weeks ago at an aged care hostel, where he had been for maybe five years. He spent his time there annoying the nurses and care workers, and receiving visitors. Fresh out of hospital to have a morphine pump inserted, his mischievous eyes still lit up in his wasted face as I called out to him, surrounded by ladies and having a stolen cigarette on the back step.

His funeral is at the local Football Club, where he had built a new life, rarely missing a game when he was well enough. I'm sure I'll hear lots more stories of his escapades today.

"Here's to a long life and a merry one
A quick death and an easy one
A pretty girl and an honest one
A cold beer and another one!"
... Author Unknown

Passages of Life

Life seems full of lessons, some obvious and others not so.

I participated in my daughter and her partner's move to the country last weekend. Her sister and partner helped, along with my 15 and 8 y.o. grandson and my man. Apart from the obvious pleasure I felt from their camaraderie and enthusiasm, it marked a major step forward for her moving into an entirely new phase of her life.

After years of study and house cleaning to fund her and her son's life, she now metamorphoses into a totally new form..... one of professional teacher, involving setting up her curriculum, managing her students and most of all, inspiring them to learn. I am looking forward to watching her use her personal inspiration, which I have seen during her teaching rounds last year.

She will be a good one, I feel sure of that.

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Today I went to visit a friend's mother, who at 93, is in the twilight stages of her life. Her short term memory is totally shot, she forgets whether she ate or drank, has a recently broken shoulder which can't be repaired, and is developing pressure sores on her poor bony little bottom.

She is always gently dignified, and long term memory lights up her face when you see her, because you have been in her life for twenty years, and have loved her always. A truly beautiful lady.

Three years ago ~ 90th birthday treat

She nestles quietly into her beautifully decorated room in the Nursing Home, waiting for her life to be over, and is surrounded by love from family and friends. None of that love will make her trip through this last stage of life any longer than is already apportioned her.

As someone who had a difficult unstable mother, who is gone now, but left an uncomfortable scar on my psyche, I envy this mostly gentle traveling into the next world. 'Part of the rich tapestry of life', as I often reflect.

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My man took off on his Harley this morning, for an 'overnighter', up through East Gippsland, then north into the Mountains, over Mt Hotham and down to beautiful Bright to stay, and then home.

He wants to try a trip on his own to see how he feels about his aloneness without me riding close and staggered alongside him.

With my smashed wrist not being able to close the clutch in, and not being able to swivel on my injured knee to get my leg over, leaves me at home and 'grieving' somewhat.

I watched him put his heavy leather jacket and gloves on, and he kissed me twice to say goodbye before the helmet and sunglasses went on. The big Harley motor turned over and rumbled into life and, with a wave, he was gone. I could hear the echoes of the gear changes and revs of the motor through the hills for five minutes or more.

My memories registered how it was to prepare for a big ride - the adrenaline, anticipation and then the roar of the big bikes, as we threaded our way down the windy gravel roads. We would reach the bitumen, then speed up, and whoever was in front would punch the air with absolute joy, and the one behind would reply in kind. If I was ahead when we reached the main road, I would hit the throttle hard, just for a moment, and the bike would leap forward with enough power to take your breath away.


Grief? Yes, heaps. I keep steering my mind away from the realisation that this might be the end of such dual pleasure, of that extra level of mateship between us, but it surfaces like a dark sludge at times like this.

How do I find something to replace it?

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"Sometimes the best communication happens when you're on separate bikes."
...Author Unknown

Late Treasures

I'm sitting here banging away on my laptop, and listening to Christmas Carols................

I bought Josh Groban's 'Noel' before Christmas on eBay, and didn't realise it was coming from Buenos Aries! The pre-Christmas postal rush meant it has arrived after the big day.

I don't care! It is spectacular. 'Ave Maria' is on now and the hair is standing up on the back of my neck.

I watch this young man singing and being interviewed on TV and think just how proud his parents must be. So much talent and such a gentleman.

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Motorcycle accident update. Yesterday I was looking at my wrist x-rays 4 months down the track, mainly to check on the location of the screws and plate. I've been getting some uncomfortable clunking and shooting pains, which is possibly from the bone growing and closing down the joint a little.

I discovered that my thumb had been broken as well! I had complained to the surgeon after the surgery that my thumb was extremely sore, and he had shown little interest, which was pretty disappointing at the time. I thought it had been badly sprained from holding onto the bike hand grip, but the pain has persisted.

Now, I am really mad! I have an appointment with my lovely GP tomorrow, and have had all the results sent to her to view. Having surgery on my knee due, I am unsure about whether I want to use him.

Blerghhh! If it hasn't been difficult enough so far. It's not over yet.

You can't run away from trouble. There ain't no place that far.

... Uncle Remus

Sold - One Puppy.........

I haven't cared much about selling any works recently, as my head has been filled with pain and shock from the accident.

This little guy went last week. He was a lot of fun to do, and I'll miss him.

Bits and Pieces

My early Christmas present is a 9ft Golden Elm tree.

Today we went out to Neerim South to the Blerick Tree Farm to view an amazing array of trees (over 2000). He offered to 'tree sit' until February, so it can reach it's optimum growth by autumn. He will water and feed it and check it for Elm Beetle.


Lovely! I am really excited, because I have wanted one for such a long time. My grandmother had a huge one out in her garden at Olinda when I was a child. I used to climb up into its branches and look up into its lime green canopy. I had to have one to recapture that lovely memory, and now it's done! Even standing amongst the young trees took me right back to those innocent days.

My wonderful tree will go down below my studio, where it can throw shade on the hydrangea walk I have built there. They need the shade and the blues will be beautiful with the lime green.

I am probably a bit past climbing up into the branches, especially by the time it begins to spread sideways. I'll leave that to the grandkids.

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I love rain like this, overflowing the gutters and pouring down the driveway. It didn't last for long though, and now the water's in our phone line and gives a loud irritating static while trying to talk. It happens every time we get a serious downpour.

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Who would believe our cute little lambies are now tubby sheepies in just three months? Some are developing the Cheviot roman nose that gorgeous dad Herbie gave them. They're great little people now, and spend most of their days sleeping, playing and stuffing their boofy little faces.

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My knee surgery for cartilage damage and whatever else needed will be scheduled by the surgeon on 23rd January 2008. Hopefully the plate in my wrist will come out as well. I may as well get it all over in one hit, then get on with my life.

I just have to stay out of trouble until then and that's the hard part.

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"I think I've discovered the secret of life - you just hang around until you get used to it."

... Charles Schulz

Diagnose Myself? May as well.....

The frustration of not getting a long awaited result for my wrecked knee is starting to tell on me. The MRI was last Friday, and I'm supposed to wait for the surgeon to ring me, but it's taking SO LONG! The burning down the outside of my leg is very wearing, and I do wonder whether I am damaging it more. The injury is now almost three months old...

So, I got the films out again yesterday and downloaded a Gray's Anatomy picture from Wikipedia so I could compare. At least it all makes me that little bit smarter, and I love learning more.

I discovered that the Collateral Ligament from the top of the Fibular which ties the knee together via the Femur above, is quite shredded, and shows quite clearly on the scan. The pressure needed for that to tear it has possibly been what has caused the fibular head to crack. It's hard to tell how much is left, or if it is hanging by a thread ready to pop at any time, so I am taking extra care. Who knows what condition the cartilage is in as well.

I showed my physiotherapist this morning, and he agreed that it certainly looked that way.

Time will tell.....

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As I was walking up the stair,
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today.
I wish, I wish he'd go away.
... Hugh Mearns

Ongoing

I went to visit my Harley yesterday to see how the repairs are going. It is almost back together again; just waiting on the fuel tank paint job, and the front brakes re-installed.

Robbie pulled it out of the line of bikes so I could have a go at pulling the clutch in, which I did, with difficulty, but I did succeed. Maybe I will be able to ride again.

I have decided to make closing the clutch in when the bike is back home my daily exercise!

I was chatting with a friend yesterday and telling her of the absolute exhilaration I get from riding my bike, and how closing the clutch in was such an achievement. She said, "You've got to get back on, Robyn!"

I will try. I don't know how I will feel being so exposed to injury again, but then I could get hit by a bus crossing the road. Indeed, driving back from dropping my man off at work this morning, I met the huge school bus coming round the steep winding roads we live on, and nearly had a 'confrontation'. Our corners are so tight that a large vehicle that doesn't bend in the middle can be a huge danger. I only remembered that the bus would be on its way 30 seconds before I met it, so was prepared to pull over in a hurry. It stopped, and I stopped, then we negotiated our way safely past each other.

Many residents report similar close calls, and we mumble about petitioning to get it downgraded to a smaller, safer vehicle, but never quite get around to doing it.

But, back to my original point, I could be hit by a bus!

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I have an MRI on my wrecked knee tomorrow morning, which will be an interesting experience. My physiotherapist tells me it should only take about 20 minutes for a knee, so it shouldn't be too difficult. We are invited to bring our own music CDs to block out the apparently loud noises, so some Handel arias and similarly calming pieces will go too.

Always wanting to know more, I looked up MRI on Wikipedia. Bypassing all the technical blurb on how it works, I discovered it operated on a giant magnet, which could rattle any metal implants in your body. I don't know how it will affect my plate in my wrist, but they know I have that. My rings won't come off, so I should ring them today to see what to do about that. Further on in Wikipedia, I discovered a link to a You Tube that showed what effect the magnet had on a large oxygen bottle which was put on the table and run into the tunnel. It sucked the thing in with a crash, then banged it around like crazy.

Scary stuff! I might leave my oxygen bottle at home.........

I find that a great part of the information I have was acquired by looking up something and finding something else on the way.
... Franklin P. Adams

Giant Crocodiles and Lost Pleasures

Saturday on my own saw me travel down to town to see 'Rogue' (Jaws revisited!). This movie had good reviews, and there's nothing like a good monster movie to get the blood pumping, in more ways than one.........

Our local cinema is terrific, with four small theatres, which are often nearly empty when a movie run is almost over. Saturday afternoon was no exception. I bought my ticket, and watched with trepidation a group of eight giggling teenagers who loudly proclaimed they were seeing the croc movie too. I nearly cashed in my ticket to go and see 'Elizabeth' with Cate Blanchett, but hoped they might quieten down watching the show.

They all filed in, girls and boys of maybe twelve to fourteen, chattering like budgerigars coming in to roost. My heart sank, and I kept telling myself I could still leave if necessary. The movie started and feet were up on the back of chairs and noise level wasn't dropping, so I put on my best teacher voice and asked them to keep it down; that we needed quiet to enjoy this type of movie. You can't do suspense with giggles.

They did try, some more than others, and every time the noise level rose, I would lean forward in my seat to look at them, and it would drop again. Fortunately there was a father and son sitting a couple of rows in front of me, and though he didn't turn around, his presence added authority.


The monster croc did his stuff; people got crunched, and the hero fought his last battle and won, saving the heroine who had been impossibly mauled. Enough to well and truly kill her! Great female lead, and other excellent Aussie stars. The huge croc was terrific, and the money spent on him was a good investment. But it was just another Jaws movie in beautiful Northern Territory scenery.

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My man came home yesterday from his weekend away on his Harley. The dogs heard him from miles away and were looking down the driveway waiting for him to appear. Sure enough, a few minutes later, he came roaring round the corner and up the driveway, just as I put the poodles into the house to open the gate. He rumbled past me with his thumb up in greeting, and I felt a surge of grief that I probably wouldn't feel that extreme exhilaration again.

We used to make our last ten kilometres the best part of our ride, racing hard up the tight windies, me in front and him hot on my tail. Goodness knows what might have happened if a cow had been out on the road. There would have been no stopping.

We would roar up the driveway as he had just done, and along the veranda to the back of the house, the two Harley exhausts super loud under the iron roof. I would stop and get off and he would rev his bike up to make the rafters ring. Then we would Hi-Five in absolute joy. There is nothing that can possibly replace that adrenalin rush.

Later, after he had unpacked his saddlebags, I threw my leg over and lifted the bike off it's stand. I wanted to know whether I might be able to squeeze the clutch in. But, no, there was no hope ....... only pain. Early days yet, and my clutch has been operated on to make it softer, but it doesn't look good.

I was really gloomy after that. Maybe no riding ever again...............

"We have no right to ask when sorrow comes, 'Why did this happen to me?' unless we ask the same question for every moment of happiness that comes our way."
... Author Unknown

Repercussions

Last week saw my damaged knee go out from under me and a clumsy slide down a steep slope with that leg tucked underneath. This ridiculous attempt at acrobatics has left me with my injury ramped up to pretty unbearable. By Thursday, and under the not so gentle hands of my physiotherapist, I was asked whether I might have broken something? That had never occurred to me, but as the day progressed and the pain escalated, I took my unused x-ray request from two weeks before and had it done.

Outside in the car afterwards, I peered at the films to see if there was anything obvious. Apart from what looked like some abraded bone surface where one bone could have twisted on the other, there were no obvious crack lines. I called in for a wait-for-it appointment and the doctor agreed with me, telling me to rest and take my anti-inflammatories.

The next day I was desperate, so much so I moved the surgeon's appointment forward two weeks, and went to see him yesterday. He was annoyingly uncommunicative as he twisted my leg up and down, causing me to really yelp with pain. He said he didn't know what the problem was, but wanted an MRI scan done, and was I happy to have an arthroscope done if necessary to tidy up the cartilage? "Anything!" I said, so long as it felt better.

So, the saga goes on. I constantly remind myself how lucky I was to get out with so few injuries, and as we see more road trauma accidents with horrific damage, I am grateful .... enormously so. An ad for a current affair show tonight shows a poor girl with what looks like a broken glass stab injury to her face, and tell myself 'there but for the grace of God go I........'

Soft bodies and hard surfaces don't go well together.

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But my hand is coming good - gaining strength and much more movement. I even clipped two of my poodles over the past few days, which they really needed. Driving is easier now I can use that hand a little more.

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On a lighter note, I am posting some photos of the different lavenders I have in the garden. My dear old camera's 'close up' opens up a whole new world!

"I always try to believe the best of everybody -- it saves so much trouble."

... Rudyard Kipling

Did He or Didn't He?

I sat for an hour in the Medical Centre yesterday waiting for my lovely lady doctor. She always apologises for the long wait, and gently reminds me that she spends as much time as needed on each patient.

I don't mind, as she is very special, looking me in the eye with compassion and interest, and explaining everything. She doesn't let you leave until you're sure you'd dealt with all you had come for, and then some.

She expressed some concern about the condition of my wrist, and it's long term prospects.

The reason for the heading to this post is that for that hour, I watched the doctor who caused my accident greet and farewell about 6 patients. He looked in my direction many times, and gave no sign of recognition, even though I stared at him somewhat. He behaves so 'warm and fuzzy' to those paying his wages, but outside of that?................

People! So many pay lip service just to get what they want. Thank goodness there are wonderful people in my life now who do not.

Physiotherapy Revelations.............

My wrist has been pretty much frozen for the past seven and a half weeks. There is a small amount of movement up and down, very little sideways, and it won't turn so that I could hold a handful of anything. The fingers won't close into a fist, and the thumb has only a little bend. Hanging onto my motorcycle bars, while saving my life, wrenched my thumb badly, so it has been pretty unusable since.

That is improving, though it still won't bend. I can hold light things now, like an empty coffee cup.

The plate is on the inside of the wrist, and set quite high, so is impeding the movement of the wrist downwards. That can't come out for a time yet. It sits just under the skin, and feels quite uncomfortable at times. I will know more on the 28th when I see the surgeon.

My physiotherapist can be quite brutal, but he is quite pleased with the progress, though he says 'it will take a while'.

Yesterday he worked on the unbroken ulna to hand connection, where the joint has frozen. It had been under pressure from the cast for two weeks after the break, when in desperation, I got the pliers and broke the plaster. I suppose the prolonged inactivity also caused more damage. Trying to rotate the wrist now pulls on that joint big time.

Although he exerted a lot of very uncomfortable pressure when he worked the joint, I could see what he was trying to do. Pushing the bones in opposite directions, he actually 'broke the seal'. I felt it 'pop' as it released, then some alarming cracking noises, like when you crack your knuckles. He was very pleased and massaged it round and round, talking about 'sliding' the bones in the joint against each other.

I don't seem to be able to do that at home, but Thursday will bring another session. Fascinating stuff.........

To add to the distress, I took a tumble the other day with my already damaged knee. So I am hobbling around like a silly old cripple. I think I fell onto my wrist because it has an area of new soreness on the back. What a dope!

Living on 'The Hill' means lots of sloping ground, so more `care is needed.

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Arr, what the heck! It's looking good from up here!

"If you don't think every day is a good day, just try missing one."

... Cavett Robert

Is Your Plaster Cast comfortable?

I feel compelled to put this in as I had no idea an uncomfortable plaster cast could be so dangerous.

Almost everyday after I had surgery to reconstruct the wrist end of my radius, I had discomfort with my 'back slab. A back slab is a half cast wrapped with bandage, so that when the swelling from the initial injury and surgery subsides, it can be re-wrapped/ tightened if necessary. The disadvantages are that there can be more movement, which can shuffle the ends of the break together and slow healing.

My back slab was uncomfortable from day one, and I re-wrapped it almost everyday, until I got some fat padding from the chemist. It was like heaven to not be so uncomfortable. But there were sore spots on three bony protrusions - the ulna wrist knuckle, a small bony point nearby in my hand, and the end of the radius, at the base of the thumb. The pain from the pressure nearly drove me crazy, and I finally got to my cast with the pliers to make space. This relieved it somewhat, but now 7 weeks into my injury and a week and a half out of my cast, these areas are still very sore, and one is quite swollen.

Until this morning, I had found nothing referring to this problem, apart from my physio talking about inflammation from the cast. Googling today, I came up with this page: http://www.primary-surgery.org/ps/vol2/html/sect0335.html
which talks about the dangers of having pressure sores/ not enough space, and they are huge! Gangrene and deformities are not to be taken lightly, and it can set in overnight.

So, if your cast doesn't feel right, do something about it......................

Mower Man

I was granted two hours gardening a fortnight by the TAC, who provide support post vehicle accidents. I have also finally received 2 hours cleaning weekly starting next Wednesday. Now six and a half weeks into my injury, it seems a bit late, but I will take it gratefully, as the dust is building up.

I have learned to vacuum one handed, and wash the floor. Mopping is quite difficult, and works better if I have a long sleeve on my right arm and the handle can slide up into that.

But I digress: back to the mower man...............

He was a tall, taciturn fellow, but pleasant enough. I walked him around the two gardens, pointing out what needed doing, saying he could choose his areas and my man would pick up the slack.

At the end, he turned to me and said, "The TAC only pays $21 per hour and I charge $45, so you can only have an hour".

I looked at him with my mind racing, pondering on the possibility of dobbing him in, but thought I might hold off and see how he worked.

I joked back, "Well, what are you doing talking to me, you'd better get to work!", and walked back inside.

He whipper snipped furiously for a while, then got the mower going, firstly on in the house yard, then down around the studio. Just over an hour went by, and as he was packing up, I went around for a look, and he had done it all!


I went to thank him, and he said in a pleased voice, "It'll be easier next time!" and drove off down the hill. He was mopping his face profusely, so had worked up quite a sweat.

Needless to say, my man is feeling threatened by this dynamo. He says it would take him half a day to do all that.

Having a self propelled mower like his would take a lot of effort out of mowing the slopes, so maybe we should look at one of those........

After we worked it out, there would have been 40 minutes of traveling time, fuel, and payment for his franchise, so it didn't seemed so bad after all. And our lawns look great!

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I had my second physiotherapy session last night, and am feeling a lot more confident about my injury. He says it will take 6 - 12 weeks to really loosen it up, and the full 12 months to stabilise it. He gets the Voltaren and Vitamin E cream and rubs it all in vigorously, crackling the joints around, and flapping my wrist backwards and forwards. It hurts like hell, but I steer my mind away from the pain, and after a while it feels quite good. It certainly feels wonderful to have it moving.

I have two areas of unexplained pain; one on my outside wrist 'knuckle', and at the base of the thumb bone. He says that would have been caused by pressure from the cast, which had been an issue in both places, and the bone was a bit inflamed. Ouch!!! It certainly burns and is quite swollen still.

I have some scary exercises, like steepling my hand in prayer fashion and pushing together. My fingers don't want to do that. Then I must interlock them to force them apart and roll the wrists up and over each other. Everything is designed to stretch the shrunken tendons and ligaments.

I haven't done it this morning because I'm a bit scared of how bad it feels, but that's my next job.................

"Oh, wouldn't the world seem dull and flat with nothing whatever to grumble at?"

~W.S. Gilbert

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Postscript Photo

'Longing'
Lunch or playmates?

I Feel Better Now!

I feel annoyed with myself for posting a gloomy piece yesterday, and do apologise. When I began this I promised myself I would not use it as a forum for personal venting. We all have our days, and I certainly have recently, but who wants to read a self indulgent whinge?

Anyway......... yesterday, I did have a dark moment when I was painting out in my studio. My hand began to ache hugely, so I took off the caste and it had blown up like a balloon ...... all hot and prickly.

I panicked a bit and rang the surgeon's rooms, and they said to come on up for him to have a look. My poor man was traveling home from a work over-nighter and had to turn the car around and retrace part of his trip.

The surgeon had a look (the swelling had subsided somewhat by then, don't you hate that?), and wriggled a lot of complaining joints around. Some moved and some didn't, but he pronounced it fine, and left the plaster off. So, now I am off to physio next week to get my hand back.

It had blown up big time again by the time I got home, and woke me in the night to put the cast back on for support, but this morning I had a lovely two armed shower and rubbed all the layers of left over skin off. Wonderful! I read once that humans shed a bag full of skin each month. Makes you want to vacuum more, doesn't it?

I got on the WWW to research post broken bones care, and found a fabulous piece of info called 'New fracture treatment allows early function and better recovery'

It talked about fixing suitable fractures surgically with metal supports so the bone pieces don't rub together. This facilitates early movement with little pain, the break mends more quickly and strongly, and all associated joints and muscles don't deteriorate as they do by immobilising with plaster. This damage can be permanent, causing cartilage, bone and muscle breakdown.

My break was a complex one and needed immobilising, but I am taking the rest on board, and am making myself use all the joints a little. My wrist and thumb don't want to do much, but I will ask them anyway, and I am not as afraid of damaging myself. I even asked my hand to have a go at hanging out the washing. Onwards and upwards again!

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We really enjoyed watching our lambies spronging around in the dusk last night. Even their mums were butting at each other and skipping around like woolly idiots. Calves do the same thing. It seems the fading light turns on their fun buttons. I will take the camera out tonight and try to get a shot.

One little girl is a bit hoppy on her front leg, but she's weight bearing so should be OK. She probably hit a rough spot in the dusk and sprained her knee a little.

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"There are no gains without pains."
.... Benjamin Franklin

It's Stopped Blowing

"It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily.
"So it is."
"And freezing."
"Is it?"
"Yes," said Eeyore. "However," he said, brightening up a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately."
.....A. A. Milne. From the book Winnie the Pooh

Today, finally, there is no wind, and I feel vaguely confused because of the stillness.

Five and a half weeks since my tangle with a car and I am tired of the pain, the confinement, and having to negotiate everything single handed.

Each week I have had warm and wonderful visits from a friend or family member, which has diverted my darker moments for a time.

I tell myself constantly I am so lucky to have not been injured more, but even the effort of staying upbeat is draining.

Yesterday I found the tip of the screw that pokes through my wrist bone and comes out the other side. I showed the x-ray to a nurse friend who expressed concern. Finding a sharp point sitting exposed into my flesh perhaps means every time I put pressure on it, it will pierce a new hole. Maybe it will need to be taken out.............


My thumb doesn't bend, and complains loudly at its base each time I try to move it. More injury needing more treatment? I hope not.

Hanging on so hard to the bike bars as I impacted has stressed that joint hugely along with shattering my wrist.

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Grumble over. It's my birthday on the first, and I get to choose a present ..... maybe a chandelier for my bedroom, or an external hard drive for my photos. If I don't choose something, he stresses out, wanting to get me the perfect present. I don't need much, other than my hand back.

I'm off out to the studio to struggle over some ideas I am trying. I'll post another picture from my garden to brighten up your day. :0)

Our Domains

Having only one useable arm for the past four weeks, it has been interesting how much I have had to give up and how it has affected me.

Then I heard on telly or the radio this week, how everyone inhabits their own domains, and how clearly delineated they can be.

The more I ponder on this subject the more separate ones I discover.

I cook, shop, clean house, and feed and manage the poodles. I groom, clip, bath and decide on their day to day movements and needs.

I garden, building new beds in the larger areas, deciding what I would like to go in and where ….. size, shapes, colours, and how I feel about each new acquisition. I plant and manage the vegetable garden, weeding, watering, mulching and checking for pests. I harvest from that for the kitchen and give the excess away to friends and family. I spray the driveways and paths for weeds. My man is not allowed to spray, as he kills the good stuff and uses too much concentrate. He is only allowed to spray outside the house yard.

I love to cook, and make jams, chutneys, pickles and sauces with produce I grow or collect from elsewhere. I bake a cake most weeks. I manage our healthy eating and try to keep our weight and cholesterol levels down.

My studio is my haven. I draw, paint, experiment and plan new work. I hang my new works on the walls for viewing by visitors. I disappear down there when I am angry, sick, or just plain tired of the world. My past life’s possessions are mostly stored down there in the cupboards. I relinquish that domain up when family comes to stay, remaking the beds, cleaning the small kitchen and bathroom and tidying up my creative clutter. Works I don’t want seen get hidden or thrown away.

My laptop and old computer upstairs are another one. I build websites, add to my blog, process photos, email to my family and friends and surf the net. I have a gorgeous laptop, a Toshiba Qosmio, which I got for my last year’s birthday. With that, I can go upstairs to bed, plug it in to bunny ears and watch TV if he’s watching the footy or something I don’t want to see.

I manage the bank accounts, planning bill payments and savings plans.

I maintain contact with my daughters, remembering birthdays and orchestrating family get togethers. I also arrange our small social dinner parties and who comes and when.

My man has his shed and his paid work/ career. He manages the household heating/ collecting, splitting and stacking firewood. He brings wood in and lights the fire on cool evenings.

He plans his/our motorcycling trips and when he goes off on rides with his mates. He repairs and renovates around the house and property when needed.

He maintains contact with his children and supports them when needed.

It has taken us many years of balancing what was most important to each of us to set up our areas of expertise.

So, now I cannot perform a lot of these tasks, my frustration level has skyrocketed. I have to invite him into ‘my domains’ that have been so clearly delineated before the accident. In his generosity and eagerness to help, he has stepped on my toes many times, and I on his, and we have bickered and grumped at each other.

We shop together now, and my usual speedy exercise takes on a whole new lean. For some odd reason, I enjoyed our household shopping, but now cannot push the trolley properly, carry or load parcels, or, of course, drive!

Years ago, he used to love shopping, calling it 'hunting and gathering', and enjoyed 'doing laps' of the supermarket. We haven't shopped together much for years as I do it during the week (maybe I will have to re-train him again when this is all over!).

This morning, as we worked on making our Sunday eggs on toast, he used olive oil instead of a dab of butter. I chastised him, telling that the ‘eggs don’t stick with butter’. His eyes rolled at me, as if I should get out of the way, he was doing it.

Just one of many moments when our hackles rise, and then lay back down, remembering that we need each other for so many daily tasks. Especially now.

Today, if it warms up a bit more, we are going to get the hydrobath out and shampoo the poodles together. That will be interesting.

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This week my anger level at the perpetrator of my massive lifestyle change has risen markedly, if that is possible.

We heard recently that he was at his monthly Rotary Club meeting and the accident was brought up. He was good naturedly fined one dollar for knocking me off my motorbike. the story goes he was apparently very irritated it had become so public. This man is a popular local doctor who did me such damage, but apart from a quick call nine days later to check the insurance was under way, has never shown any concern whatsoever.

So, I am making sure everyone knows. We still live in a country area, and gossip goes round like wildfire, so it’s not hard to do.

"Patience is the ability to count down before you blast off. "

... Author Unknown