Tuesday, March 29, 2016

we can rebuild him

My ACL knee surgery went as planned back on March 10th, a long day of traveling, anxiety, then realization and moments of suffering. Realization that my leg was pretty much useless, more a raw stump than a leg, unable to bend, packed tight with fluid. After the first ragged night I kept to my prescribed pain medication (Percocet), as well as the anti-inflammatory Naproxen. Unfortunately, this latter drug triggered my colitis, so that both my leg and stomach assaulted me when the Percocet dreamstate subsided. Once it was depleted, I found myself stressed that I would soon be unable to bear the waves of colitis nausea and pain. Thankfully, my gastroenterologist was able to get me a batch of Mezavant, and the worries went with it. Still, my internals are rather touch and go even now, some 19 days after the surgery.

Oh, the surgery, the very act of, was of little excitement. Sure, there was the stress of waking to make the appointed time with all of the required documentation, but the act itself passed invisibly: I lay on the hospital bed in the operation room (much as you'd expect -- sterile and filled with various instruments, trays, and cupboards) one moment, then waking in a hallway, my knee wrapped in the cold machine a good friend had leant me. My parents and partner helped me get home, a limp and drained figure.

My days then consisted of going to my physiotherapy sessions, struggling with such chores as going to the bathroom and doing my exercises. I'd have thought video games or Netflix would consume my awake time but as it happened I spent my hours doing my FutureLearn courses ("Cultural Studies and Modern Languages", "World War 1: Lessons and Legacy of the Great War", "Climate Change") and reading about Louis Riel, that poor soul.

I went back to work on the 21st, that first day feeling much like a blinking pup, with things slowly returning to normal. I continue to walk with one crutch, having discarded the other and the prohibitive leg-splint. The knee is becoming stronger and more flexible, though my right leg is but a sapling to its sibling. The cats kept me good company, and certainly my seemingly speedy recovery can be heavily attributed to my partner's attentiveness and care.

I am on the mend.