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You
would think the older you get the smarter you would be, wouldn’t you?
Opting
for two surgeries ten days apart sounded good, but wasn’t such a great idea after
all. I’m glad I’ve done it, but truth to tell, I wouldn’t do it again if I had
the chance.
If you ever see a picture of me (I need to update the ones
in some of the papers) then you might notice that I am a heavy lidded individual.
This means I have a lot of fat on my eyelids which makes it hard for me to see.
I can’t remember the last time I saw my eyelashes. Are they even still there?
The rule is that when the lid droops down past your pupil then you need to get
them fixed. So I did.
I came out looking like I was the loser in a very uneven boxing match. Both eyes
black and blue, the lids were swollen, but I could see better, so it was a success.
First thing I noticed in going outside is how bright everything seems. Well, after
thinking about it for a moment you realize that I’ve been walking around with
an awning over my eyeballs for years. Once that came off, then here comes the
sun. The other good thing is that I don’t feel so tired at about 4pm and my eyes
seem to be focusing better than they were for some reason or another. So all in
all it was a good thing.
Next
up, is a total knee replacement. Now this one is a bear. Everyone I’ve talked
to says you will be happy when you are finished with it, but the first couple
of weeks are hard after the surgery. This is an understatement.
My
right knee has been torn up for years, finally just needed to be replaced and
another one put in. I go into the hospital at 5am……am in the operating room by
7am….and from there I am out of it. I wake up in the room, stuck full of needles
and bags hanging everywhere. I’m ok with this until they come in and tell me to
get up and walk to the door of the room. I think they are kidding….I just got
out of surgery. I am on pain medicine, I need some sleep. Nope, they help me out
and off to the door I go. That afternoon or perhaps the next day, I can’t remember,
they put my leg in a device that moves it back and forth so many times an hour.
You must stay hooked to this contraption for six to eight hours each day. Vincent
Price could have used one of these in some of his movies. This place is not somewhere
you go to get some rest. They are in and out of the room every thirty or forty
minutes, taking your blood pressure, taking your blood, temperature and giving
you injections all over your body. Some nurses can give a shot, some can’t. Those
who can’t can be easily seen in various places across my body with large dollar
sized bruises. They release me after three days and I manage to get myself upstairs
for some much needed rest.
Not going to happen… now comes the physical
therapist. I am expecting someone from a German concentration camp who goes by
Helga but I get this small, petite lady named Lynn. I’m thinking no sweat, I can
make this work, but am I wrong. Lynn has obviously taken training from some terrorist
organization as she knows just what to do to bring on immense amounts of pain.
She does not allow me to wimp out and say I can’t do this exercise or that exercise.
No, we will keep on going until we get it right. You might just as well gut it
up and do it since she isn’t leaving until you have done all of them to her satisfaction.
No mercy in this woman. I’d hate to be her husband.
In addition to this,
she can talk to you and count at the same time. I’ll think ( I’ll wish) we’re
at number twelve on one exercise and she will tell me … ‘No, that’s only eight…’
I’ll start her off on some subject and hope she forgets the count, but so far,
I haven’t been able to do so.
All kidding aside, she is marvelous and
is helping me along much faster than I had envisioned. I should be off this walker
in another week or so and on my own.
Would I do this again? Yes, but let’s
just hope it never happens. One can only be a glutton for so much punishment.
© Peary Perry
Comments go to pperry@austin.rr.com
Letters From North America
- July 1, 2009 column
Syndicated weekly in 80 newspapers
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