Part six in my self-absorbed diary of recovery from relatively minor knee surgery…
This morning’s chore was to remove the dressings on my knee and replace with cleaner, smaller ones. I have to say I wasn’t looking forward to this one bit. I even reached into the stash of painkillers a little early, to steel myself.
I am, essentially, a wuss.
Taking off the outer bandage was easy, if awkward. Basically, my right leg still isn’t cooperating and bending where it should, leaving me moving a lot like a mannequin. If one came to life…
Once that was off, the true horror of what lay beneath was laid bare. Two small dressings and a lot of dried blood. Oh. Disappointing. And the knee looked okay, if swollen. When I think of the pain on the inside, the outside really doesn’t do it justice.
I then took a long, glorious shower, my first since surgery last Tuesday morning. Oh god, it was beautiful. Indescribably delicious. I scrubbed and soaped myself back to my pre-op state. I could have stayed in there for hours. Except I was wobbly due to my knee and the recently ingested painkillers. On reflection, they probably contributed to the shower euphoria.
I also had to remove the two large plasters covering my wounds and replace them. Due to the hairiness of my legs, I opted to do this while in the shower – hoping the water would loosen them up a bit. In short, it was horrifically painful, but just for a minute. You can also see that the left hand wound was unhelpfully covered by adhesive plaster, not dressing. This made it really, really painful to take off.
After everything was nice and clean, I took a break before putting on fresh dressings to let the wounds dry. The above photo shows just how small the wounds are. Obviously, what it doesn’t show is what went on underneath and I’m glad I didn’t witness that. I imagine it involved large steel implements and a hammer. Orthopaedic surgeons aren’t known for their hesitant nature.
Just a few minutes later, I had a couple of fresh dressings on and was back on my feet, hobbling around again. Having shared the pics with my sister – an ex-nurse – I was given the seal of approval for a job well done.
An additional major milestone today may be going down five floors in the lift to get a breath of fresh air at the entrance to our apartment block. That aside, I’m guessing there’ll be more sleep. And not much else.
But I’m also going a little stir-crazy and can’t remember the last time I was stuck at home for such an extended period. Physio begins on Tuesday, so I need to start planning how I’ll get from here to there. It’s a 10-minute walk across the Canary Wharf estate….for normal people.
I’m estimating a 45-minute shuffle with crutches. And breaks along the way.