Wyatt is either having intermittent leg and foot pain or having issues about my post-operative state. Last night, he pulled up lame and complained of ankle and/or knee pain, but he was fine once I sat with him for a while. Matt and I are wondering if he thinks that I will be on crutches or in a walker forever.
Wyatt peed into his training potty on his own last night, but not before nailing the wool carpet a bit. He is drinking wayyyyy toooooo much before bedtime and wetting every surface in sight. Ah, the joys of parenthood.
I am starting to feel the hardware in my leg now. The right angle in the plate is poking through the hip, and I think I feel the screw ends in the back of my leg. Nothing painful, though.
I am down to one 10 mg. dose of Oxycontin and one to two doses of Percocet a day. I tried to tough it out cold turkey last night, but that was really dumb.
The last batch of sel gris caramels came out too salty. Still, it's a thrill to hit a chunky grain of that minerally Guerande salt in the midst of all that toothache inducing goo.
Tony Wilson is retiring from Melbourne's RRR Breakfasters radio show. He, Fee B-Squared, and Sam Pang are such an intelligent and passionate bunch. I will miss their special dynamic. Turns out, I wasn't the only married girl I know to have had a crush on Tony.
I have been queasy for a long time now. The curse of it is having to eat all the time to keep the stomach steadied.
I can read the New Yorker cover to cover in a night or two. It is one of my few tangible accomplishments these days. I stay up late because I am afraid of the dark.
Janet and I are ripping through DVDs of Reilly, Ace of Spies a few evenings a week. Good grief, Sam Neill!
Matt and I are ripping through DVDs of The Wire, a Baltimore based cop show. It would help if there were subtitles sometimes. We throw the first season of Lost (cringe goes here) in when we're feeling terribly escapist.
Sitting on my ass all day, working out the scar tissue with emu oil, chatting with long lost ghosts on Facebook, zoning out, is still a rather splendid mindless bliss. I am grateful to have had the opportunity.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
Wyatt's Thanksgiving Weekend
Janet showed Matty and Wyatt the way to Skyrock, the Paiute petroglyphs on the nearby Tablelands.
So strange that I don't feel any of this....yet
Matty reckons I'm not that big of a whinger in the scheme of things now.
While the surgeons were in there, they decided to try to get the neck of my femur into the correct position, too. So they changed its high orientation by pulling it down 10 degrees. This explains the offset gap in the middle picture. I should be filling the gap with bone in the next few months. The gap is actually even a bit larger in different Xrays. By the way, the top of the "7" shaped plate is actually anchored INTO the femur.
While the surgeons were in there, they decided to try to get the neck of my femur into the correct position, too. So they changed its high orientation by pulling it down 10 degrees. This explains the offset gap in the middle picture. I should be filling the gap with bone in the next few months. The gap is actually even a bit larger in different Xrays. By the way, the top of the "7" shaped plate is actually anchored INTO the femur.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Meat pie hiatus
Pino Pies is on [hopefully temporary] hiatus while it regroups in a new configuration (the Pinos just had a wonderful baby boy). I have a few dozen pies in my freezer and eagerly await Pino Pies' return.
I will gladly pay a higher price for such a high quality product. Let's hope the Gods of Small Businesses smiles upon them in the new year!
I will gladly pay a higher price for such a high quality product. Let's hope the Gods of Small Businesses smiles upon them in the new year!
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Cheesecake, not painkillers
Yeah, goofy expression indeed. I reckon they had to make the incision big enough so that two surgeons could get their hands in there at the same time.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Sundry schmundry
Matt still a goddamned amazing partner. Serving breakfast in bed, doing laundry, changing diapers, feeding the family wholesome things, you name it, he does it.
Mom and stepdad Dan were here over the weekend. They were easy going about the fact that I wasn't in any shape to be going out to a restaurant. Mom is like a nervous, flitting, and wobbly bird, who likes to do dishes. I know I take after her a lot, so I worry.
Wyatt happy that his Karen and TT are back.
AT's grandmother Mary passed away peacefully yesterday. The girls made it back in time to be with her while she was still here. There are blessings.
Autumn will slide away into winter this week, apparently. Ripening tomatoes on the vine in the yard in November was wrong, anyway.
Leg feeling v. strong. Got warned not to put more than 30-40 lbs. weight on it yet. Surgery has changed the shape of the leg. The knee isn't so hyperextended and the quadricep isn't so blocky. I'm taking into account a bit of atrophying, too. Wow, maybe the wonky femurs gave me the daikonashi (Japanese for "fat thick radish leg").
Michelle and Jon Becknell well after their surgeries. Again, there are blessings.
Looking forward to our Christmas visitors from Vancouver, Mary, Mark, and Masa.
Wyatt taking two craps at home each evening. Not enough privacy at daycare, I reckon.
Mom and stepdad Dan were here over the weekend. They were easy going about the fact that I wasn't in any shape to be going out to a restaurant. Mom is like a nervous, flitting, and wobbly bird, who likes to do dishes. I know I take after her a lot, so I worry.
Wyatt happy that his Karen and TT are back.
AT's grandmother Mary passed away peacefully yesterday. The girls made it back in time to be with her while she was still here. There are blessings.
Autumn will slide away into winter this week, apparently. Ripening tomatoes on the vine in the yard in November was wrong, anyway.
Leg feeling v. strong. Got warned not to put more than 30-40 lbs. weight on it yet. Surgery has changed the shape of the leg. The knee isn't so hyperextended and the quadricep isn't so blocky. I'm taking into account a bit of atrophying, too. Wow, maybe the wonky femurs gave me the daikonashi (Japanese for "fat thick radish leg").
Michelle and Jon Becknell well after their surgeries. Again, there are blessings.
Looking forward to our Christmas visitors from Vancouver, Mary, Mark, and Masa.
Wyatt taking two craps at home each evening. Not enough privacy at daycare, I reckon.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
A bit queasy bo-beasy
Didn't get a blood transfusion, and they were able to recycle some of what I lost in surgery. Lost a bit more blood in the surgical site drainage. The iron supplements I'm on to rebuild my hemoglobin seem to make me a bit queasy in the morning.
Never really got sick when I was preggars, so now I understand what all the fuss is about. Ugh.
Never really got sick when I was preggars, so now I understand what all the fuss is about. Ugh.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
So, I woke up Wednesday afternoon, and everything was and has been good.
Spent Tuesday in this blissfully strange state of wonder. I stopped and made time for people and they stopped and made time for me. Most folks didn't know about the impending surgery, and it was nice to keep it that way. Matty and I snuck out for lunch and I walked home from the Post Office. It was a gorgeous, warm day.
Tuesday night, Matty and I saw the amazing Marc Atkinson Trio (vintage oriented swing jazz guitar) at the Inyo Council for the Arts across the street. Dr. Beck gave me a CD of the band for the hospital trip. It was lovely to see him smile. He was Matty's pediatrician and is still the family allergist.
I got up at 5 Wednesday morning and made the drive up in the truck, just in time for the beautiful sunrise over Sherwin Summit.
The Mammoth Hospital staff were outstanding and the facilities, especially the operating theater, with its window to the pines outside, snazzy. I got spinal and intravenous anesthesia, which wore off by Thursday morning. Never needed any additional morphine and have been on two 10 mg doses of Oxycontin and around three single doses of Percocet on a daily basis. Morphine. Ugh. It reduced me to a drooling, dry heaving, lump of mashed potatoes. Matt reckons I'm such a control freak that I can't enjoy letting go. Mom on my case for the oxycontin, but as I pointed out, "Mom, they just went in and broke my leg and pinned it back together with a steel plate and screws, they have to give me something." While I have an addiction to things that are bad for me (Spanish chorizo and ham, triple cream cheeses, alcohol, double cappucinos), painkillers aren't going to join the list.
The Foley catheter was FANTASTIC for the two days I was attached to it. I was a good girl and stayed hydrated and won the best peeing patient award. Would have been a bear if I had to get up and use the toilet each time. I have been lucky in the number two department, too. (There is a local septic company with the slogan "Number One in the Number Two" painted on its truck.) Painkillers are notorious for making bowels sluggish.
Dr. Mast was headed off to NZ Friday, the day before I was discharged, and we got to talking about the stalking style fly fishing there, spicy food, and about our travels. He was in the Peace Corps in Nepal in the early days, knew all the expats, and traveled the country extensively. He knew the couple who started the Yak and Yeti bar. I reported that as of 1996, the Yak and Yeti was still there. We talked a bit about Edmund Hillary. Dr. Mast once was invited to the Hillarys' Rana Palace home. There was drinking, and at one point, Hillary climbed the chimney upside down. Ah, sweet drunken blissful and relative youth. Mast asked why we never got to talking about these things before, and I answered that I needed to get on his good side first. I think I am on it now, and he'll be around for the second procedure. Everyone thought I was one of the faster healing patients he's had. So, my relative old age (I am one of his older patients) be damned.
Matty being a domestic goddess. He is cooking, cleaning, and tending. He is taking good care of me and Wyatt. My Dad came for three nights and helped, too. There was a lot of male energy there. I just tried to catch up on more sleep and less leg pain.
First physical therapy session tomorrow.
Spent Tuesday in this blissfully strange state of wonder. I stopped and made time for people and they stopped and made time for me. Most folks didn't know about the impending surgery, and it was nice to keep it that way. Matty and I snuck out for lunch and I walked home from the Post Office. It was a gorgeous, warm day.
Tuesday night, Matty and I saw the amazing Marc Atkinson Trio (vintage oriented swing jazz guitar) at the Inyo Council for the Arts across the street. Dr. Beck gave me a CD of the band for the hospital trip. It was lovely to see him smile. He was Matty's pediatrician and is still the family allergist.
I got up at 5 Wednesday morning and made the drive up in the truck, just in time for the beautiful sunrise over Sherwin Summit.
The Mammoth Hospital staff were outstanding and the facilities, especially the operating theater, with its window to the pines outside, snazzy. I got spinal and intravenous anesthesia, which wore off by Thursday morning. Never needed any additional morphine and have been on two 10 mg doses of Oxycontin and around three single doses of Percocet on a daily basis. Morphine. Ugh. It reduced me to a drooling, dry heaving, lump of mashed potatoes. Matt reckons I'm such a control freak that I can't enjoy letting go. Mom on my case for the oxycontin, but as I pointed out, "Mom, they just went in and broke my leg and pinned it back together with a steel plate and screws, they have to give me something." While I have an addiction to things that are bad for me (Spanish chorizo and ham, triple cream cheeses, alcohol, double cappucinos), painkillers aren't going to join the list.
The Foley catheter was FANTASTIC for the two days I was attached to it. I was a good girl and stayed hydrated and won the best peeing patient award. Would have been a bear if I had to get up and use the toilet each time. I have been lucky in the number two department, too. (There is a local septic company with the slogan "Number One in the Number Two" painted on its truck.) Painkillers are notorious for making bowels sluggish.
Dr. Mast was headed off to NZ Friday, the day before I was discharged, and we got to talking about the stalking style fly fishing there, spicy food, and about our travels. He was in the Peace Corps in Nepal in the early days, knew all the expats, and traveled the country extensively. He knew the couple who started the Yak and Yeti bar. I reported that as of 1996, the Yak and Yeti was still there. We talked a bit about Edmund Hillary. Dr. Mast once was invited to the Hillarys' Rana Palace home. There was drinking, and at one point, Hillary climbed the chimney upside down. Ah, sweet drunken blissful and relative youth. Mast asked why we never got to talking about these things before, and I answered that I needed to get on his good side first. I think I am on it now, and he'll be around for the second procedure. Everyone thought I was one of the faster healing patients he's had. So, my relative old age (I am one of his older patients) be damned.
Matty being a domestic goddess. He is cooking, cleaning, and tending. He is taking good care of me and Wyatt. My Dad came for three nights and helped, too. There was a lot of male energy there. I just tried to catch up on more sleep and less leg pain.
First physical therapy session tomorrow.
Monday, November 05, 2007
One more visit with the freakshow legs
Dr. Mast called me up to Mammoth this morning to have a last good look at my legs. When he started to diagram my Xrays, my hips seemed to be calling out for an acetabular osteotomy (where they cut the hip socket open to make it bigger, because my sockets are somewhat shallow.) But, when he saw my legs and feet flop out when I got onto my back during the examination, it was clearer to him that his notes were right and the intertrochanteric osteotomy should be the first thing to try.
I guess my great range of motion one way (knees flopping out) and total lack of range the other way (knees coming in) are quite unusual.
No guarantees about any of this. But I still appreciate that I have one of the country's best orthopedic specialists (who specializes in preservation of the hip) and one of the U.S. Ski and Snowboarding Teams' surgeons (Jack Perry) spending some brain time before going in with their saws. Buzzzzzz!
I guess my great range of motion one way (knees flopping out) and total lack of range the other way (knees coming in) are quite unusual.
No guarantees about any of this. But I still appreciate that I have one of the country's best orthopedic specialists (who specializes in preservation of the hip) and one of the U.S. Ski and Snowboarding Teams' surgeons (Jack Perry) spending some brain time before going in with their saws. Buzzzzzz!
Sunday, November 04, 2007
"She came on like November, pretending to be summer"
It's been a late, long Indian Summer here in the Valley.
The Schoberlews did a little impromptu burrito eating and 4-wheeling Sunday afternoon. We caught "the Girls" trying to leave town for their two week trip Back East without saying goodbye. So, we pulled up along side them at the Big Pine Chevron gas pumps and bid our hasty goodbyes. Karen started to sing THAT line from the Phoenix Foundation's song "Gandalf." AT, Karen, and I agreed that it was a fine song, a fine cd.
"She came on like November/pretending to be summer/and I could not remember to/shelter from the last of winter/stay hidden from the cold/Until the cold steals your bones."
Speaking of colds, Wyatt has one. Yep, he's all snotty and gubby and pukey. I am trying not to get it. I have been downing Oscillococcinum (homeopathic stuff from France. Secret ingredients: duck heart and liver. Whoops, should have told Janet before I plied her with a box).
This week, I am mostly less maudlin and mostly more pragmatic. Moved the furniture around the TV room/library so that my hospital bed would fit.
Matty has finished his part of the bitchin, rather involved, tankless water heater installation. Unfortunately, the thing, which a cross between a CPU and a Toyota engine, is coming up with a fuel error code. Hopefully all will be solved by tomorrow morning, when the heater techs are at their desks in Georgia. 199,000 BTUs of heat, here we come.
The Schoberlews did a little impromptu burrito eating and 4-wheeling Sunday afternoon. We caught "the Girls" trying to leave town for their two week trip Back East without saying goodbye. So, we pulled up along side them at the Big Pine Chevron gas pumps and bid our hasty goodbyes. Karen started to sing THAT line from the Phoenix Foundation's song "Gandalf." AT, Karen, and I agreed that it was a fine song, a fine cd.
"She came on like November/pretending to be summer/and I could not remember to/shelter from the last of winter/stay hidden from the cold/Until the cold steals your bones."
Speaking of colds, Wyatt has one. Yep, he's all snotty and gubby and pukey. I am trying not to get it. I have been downing Oscillococcinum (homeopathic stuff from France. Secret ingredients: duck heart and liver. Whoops, should have told Janet before I plied her with a box).
This week, I am mostly less maudlin and mostly more pragmatic. Moved the furniture around the TV room/library so that my hospital bed would fit.
Matty has finished his part of the bitchin, rather involved, tankless water heater installation. Unfortunately, the thing, which a cross between a CPU and a Toyota engine, is coming up with a fuel error code. Hopefully all will be solved by tomorrow morning, when the heater techs are at their desks in Georgia. 199,000 BTUs of heat, here we come.
Friday, November 02, 2007
Maudlin post goes here
It's weird to be nearly 40, to have a young child, and to have trepidation about not waking up after the surgery.
I have been put under three times before. It has always been a piece of piss. I NEVER thought twice about it. Now, with my boy waiting for me, I think about the remote possibility that I won't be coming back.
Actually, lately when I think about Wyatt, I burst into tears.
I'm not the world's most natural mother. It's taken me over two years to finally feel TOTALLY at ease. That boychild has taught me so much. He has so much grace and humor and wisdom for a little kid. Even in the drama of not knowing what the hell I was doing being a mother, he was (and still is) my pride and joy.
I have been honest about my fear of not waking up. I reckon I am paying the Gods their tribute by acknowledging that everything is a gift and can be taken away. I am grateful for what I have had and would very much like a chance for a bit more, please.
In reality, besides my slightly high blood pressure and slightly high cholesterol, I'm quite healthy. I was told by the internal medicine dude (who dug the fine gauge of my Icebreaker Merino shirt) that my 15 minutes of daily cycling and intermittent hiking and skiing made me part of the fit crowd. I laughed. I am one of the lazy bastards of Bishop.
Meanwhile, in these days before the surgery, I sneak an extra hug, smooch, and cuddle with the boy when I can.
I have been put under three times before. It has always been a piece of piss. I NEVER thought twice about it. Now, with my boy waiting for me, I think about the remote possibility that I won't be coming back.
Actually, lately when I think about Wyatt, I burst into tears.
I'm not the world's most natural mother. It's taken me over two years to finally feel TOTALLY at ease. That boychild has taught me so much. He has so much grace and humor and wisdom for a little kid. Even in the drama of not knowing what the hell I was doing being a mother, he was (and still is) my pride and joy.
I have been honest about my fear of not waking up. I reckon I am paying the Gods their tribute by acknowledging that everything is a gift and can be taken away. I am grateful for what I have had and would very much like a chance for a bit more, please.
In reality, besides my slightly high blood pressure and slightly high cholesterol, I'm quite healthy. I was told by the internal medicine dude (who dug the fine gauge of my Icebreaker Merino shirt) that my 15 minutes of daily cycling and intermittent hiking and skiing made me part of the fit crowd. I laughed. I am one of the lazy bastards of Bishop.
Meanwhile, in these days before the surgery, I sneak an extra hug, smooch, and cuddle with the boy when I can.
"We have a new weiner"
New record poker pot. $80 to Michelle on 3 card Guts aka "Dropsies." This is particularly amazing considering that we open all games with a 5 cent ante.
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