A home is a dwelling-place used as a permanent or semi-permanent residence for an individual, family, household or several families in a tribe.
Lying here in my bed at home, foot elevated to a height of 3 big fat pillows, listening to the birdsong and watching the sky turn a pink so vibrant it looks like it has been painted in brushstrokes from a colourtrend paint pot, I cannot but think how lucky I am to have such a lovely home, infact to have a home at all when so many are homeless. It's quiet and leafy and its ours. Our Nest, our Home . A safe place, a warm embrace, of stone and wood and glass and light. It's here, the place that is my safe nest, my warm embrace, that I'll spend the next two weeks with my foot elevated for 22 hours a day and try and be still and quiet, (not something that comes naturally but I'm learning ) It's been 72 hours since "Clumpy Clarke" went for the "Chop", day 4 already and another "step" on the road to rehab.
I Arrived at St Vincents Private Hospital at 11am, calm and relaxed, the anxiety and fear that had been accumulating over the past few weeks, abaited . "Feel The Fear - Then Face It " - That 4 am fear... that the surgery might not be successful, fear of infection, fear of not being able to stand on my toes, fear of losing a toe, fear of not being able to walk, play tennis, teach Pilates, run after my grandson...5 am fear of getting really low, fear of pain, fear of massive change, fear of losing control...... all abaited and replaced by a "Bring It On " state of mind.
Check in at reception was a bit like an airport check in and after being assigned to floor 7 ( "of course we are taking the stairs, up to the 7th floor, I'm not going to be running up stairs for a very long time" ) I was shown to my room, no 741 with a super view and my knee scooter waiting for me beside the bed. I knew instantly we were going to be best buddies over the next 6 weeks or so . (She may not have Carbon forks or shimano chainset but she is the All Terrain version ) . After being bar coded, QR coded and wrist banded and foot banded and checked and ticked and date of birthed, I was visited by my Consultant and had our pre op chat. The guy isn't a natural hugger ( his words ) so when I gave him a big Pre Op ( you better do this right, I need my feet ) Liz Liz special he was slightly taken aback. It was the hormones made me do it. Definately. The hormones, or lack of ( bring back my HRT) made a show of me 20 minutes later, when in pre op I blubbered and sniffled when I discovered the Anaesthetist and I had a mutual friend who had passed away recently .
Nerve blocks apparently usually last 12-18 hours after surgery but mine only finally wore off a whopping 30 hours later, so the full onslaught of post op pain was not as bad as expected and even when the pneumatic drill started last night on my foot in several places, it was manageable. The Drugs are great. I'm learning, take the meds, loose the pain. Keep moving , draw the alphabet with your good leg from the ankle every hour, stretch, pelvic tilt , leg circle with the good leg. I'm also adapting to my new situation and getting into the routine, laptop, phone, glasses, pillows, at the ready, have accepted that getting to the loo is painful , crutches are awkward and yes it takes ages to do anything, but its getting easier. Lying on my bed listening to that birdsong for 2 days ain't so bad but with the sun shining today it was time to negotiate the stairs and make my way outside into the garden and onto my new sunlounger.
Done, crutches down the stairs, Trusty knee scooter waiting at the bottom and off we go. Sunshine and birdsong and being outdoors. Adapting