Thursday evening was tough. I’d forgotten how difficult it is when you wake in the middle of the night with a full bladder and an extremely sore hip, and you know you need to make it to the loo without making things worse. Have you ever tried to clamber out of bed without moving your hip joint? Give it a go if you don’t believe me but it’s a pretty delicate task. Combine that with morphine that is wearing off so the pain is intense, yet the side effects are still in full effect and include severe drowsiness and nausea. Therefore I have a limited time once I sit up, to meticulously swivel out of bed, grab my crutches, and hobble to the loo. I had remembered that last time this happened, I was at my dad’s house and I’d made it to the bathroom in the middle of the night before bellowing to Andrew that I was about to spew. He brought the bucket just in time. So on this occasion, I hadn't reached for my crutches before Andrew was awake and out of bed to assist me to the toilet, before producing the bucket in anticipation. Luckily it wasn't required this time, and I popped some fast-relief morphine and anti-sickness pills before returning to bed.
Andy leapt into action once again when I woke around 9am and required the toilet. It was also about time I had a proper wash, which I knew would prove to be one of the most difficult tasks outside of hospital. It’s a big step up into the shower and then I need to carefully sit on my shower stool and balance my crutches outside. I can’t sit on the stool and lean forward to pick up any shower gel or shampoo, or wash my legs for instance, as my hip cannot bend more than 90⁰. Needless to say, Andrew couldn't have been more helpful and eventually, I was as fresh as a daisy. I still had the mammoth mission of stepping out of the shower though, which was a lot harder than getting in, and then arguably the most difficult task to execute independently; getting dressed. Have you ever attempted to dress yourself without the use of one leg and without leaning forward? It is actually impossible. Unless you have some fancy gadgets. But its daily tasks like this, which is easily taken for granted, that millions of people around the World have to cope and deal with. For some, like me, it’s temporary. For others, it’s permanent. However temporary your situation may be, it’ll never compare to those in the permanent category, so you shouldn't feel sorry for yourself. There will always be someone much worse off and even then, are they feeling sorry for themselves? Every case is different; however in my experience, those who make the most of life have a few things in common: positivity; humility; and determination. Initially after an accident or a diagnosis, it’s fairly common and understandable to ask yourself the question, “Why me?” Then its fight or flight time. Before the operations I may say things like “My situation isn't ideal,” or “It’s a bit of an inconvenience,” but I refuse to feel downtrodden and will never feel sorry for myself.
For these difficult tasks, Andrew could assist for the next week, but then he’d be returning to Abu Dhabi. By which time, if I couldn't wash and dress myself, Eli would have the delightful role as my glamourous assistant… If needs must then fair enough, although this was additional motivation for me to be independent before next Saturday.
Having showered and dressed, Andy followed me downstairs for breakfast and meds. The modified-release morphine must be taken twelve hours apart with 10am and 10pm as the suggested time slots. Along with the morphine, I must take laxatives, over-the-counter pain-relief meds, and inject a blood thinner into my tummy.
- Injecting still doesn't get easier and I have a very bruised tummy
After breakfast, I had a lovely visit from Andy’s best man, Matt, and Andy’s uncle and aunt, Trevor and Suzanne. Friday was a lovey day, but after about 4pm I wasn’t feeling 100% and spent the rest of the day lying flat on the sofa. There is a bodily imprint on this sofa now as I could barely move off it until Sunday, except for the bathroom and bedroom trips. Andy’s brother and sister-in-law, David and Rachel, visited on Saturday for the weekend and I can barely remember much of their visit. I was taking so much medication for the pain but the side-effects wiped me out and although I wasn’t physically sick, I felt incredibly ill with no appetite. This was especially horrendous considering the boys had cooked the most amazing steak dinner on Saturday evening and I couldn’t finish half of it.
My dad made the hour journey to visit on Sunday afternoon for a couple of hours and just as he was leaving, I began to feel well. Sunday evening was the first full meal I’d eaten since Friday morning and as a girl who loves her food, this made me extremely happy. We were even joined by a friend all the way from Abu Dhabi, Alan, although I'm sure he came for the roast dinner and not to see me.
The first week out of hospital wasn’t easy, but the cards, flowers, chocolate and helium-filled balloons that arrived through the post from Gibraltar (Natalia), Abu Dhabi and the UK were incredibly sweet and uplifting. As I mentioned in the last post, my friends and family are amazing and not a day goes by that I don’t hear from them. It makes for an easier road to recovery when you’re surrounded by such caring people and I’ll always be grateful.
Tuesday was my first hydrotherapy session and I was excited to get in the water and move my stiff hip joint. The closest hydrotherapy pool to Reigate is a twenty-minute drive away and it’s a pretty small, heated pool without descending railings into it. Having seen the picture online I had wondered how I would enter and exit the pool. Not to mention the cost. At £52 for a half-hour session with a physiotherapist, with no chance of group sessions due to the size of the pool, I researched a second option. This was a 30 minute drive one-way, but did offer group rates at £14 per session. With Andrew flying home, and Eli as chief carer, a closer venue was obviously a priority however we’re talking a £400+ difference in cost. With this in mind, Eli suggested I email the closer venue and explain my experience and see if they’ll let me rent the pool and do my own rehab. Never did I expect them to agree to it but they did. It just goes to show, if you don’t ask, you don’t get. Their only requirement stipulates that I must be accompanied. In actual fact I couldn’t go solo as I need someone to crank the chair up and down to get me in the pool.
In my first session I had a sweet physio named Sarah, and subsequent sessions would be orchestrated by moi. I understood from the owner that Sarah had very recently had a PAO patient so I knew I’d be in good hands. With two and half years between my PAO surgeries, it was useful for a recap of exercises, and to know what feels right from wrong under the supervision of a professional. The only downside to this hydro pool was the depth of the water. It is only as high as my waist, which in terms of weight bearing would be 50%. I’m only permitted to bear 20% weight through my left leg and therefore I am unable to walk in water that doesn’t come up to my chest. It’s not a huge issue as there are plenty of exercises I can do, but the consequence is I cannot walk for about four weeks.
The exercises I have to practice are exactly the same as my standing exercises: raising my knee; extending my leg backwards; and outwards. I also have to practice cycling of my legs whilst lying on my back and front of a float.
Ultimately I have to strengthen my hip flexor, which has been cut through, and my glutes, core, abductors and adductors. I will have two hydro sessions per week, alongside my daily land-based exercises, and I will monitor my own progress until I feel I need a physio. It’s so much easier this time around as I know what it should typically feel like. I have an exact comparison so when I feel lots of pain when resting or during movement, I don’t worry that I’ve damaged my hip or bent the screws. If I feel sharp pains in my wound I don’t automatically think I have an infection. I’m not overly cautious this time around and I think that’s beneficial to my recovery.
On Tuesday afternoon, we returned from hydro and needed to clean and change my dressing. The hospital had written a referral letter for me to attend a GP surgery to have a nurse change it. Having experienced that last time, and felt it was a waste of time, I decided I was capable of changing it myself.
Tuesday evening was my first evening out and we went for a pub dinner with Andrew’s mum, Sue. I was pretty shattered from hydro and still drowsy from the meds so it probably was a little premature, but it was nice to get out all the same. Obviously I cannot drink until I’m off the morphine so I went crazy on Appletiser.
Wednesday and Thursday I lived on the sofa again, with visits from friends and family, and Friday was my last day with Andrew before he set off for Heathrow in the evening. Unfortunately he had to be back to work on Sunday morning (Middle East work Sunday to Thursday), and therefore his two-week ‘holiday’ was over. He handed over the reins of chief carer to his step-mum, Eli, but not before we tested my ability to shower and dress myself. Luckily for Eli, I could just about do it all. It takes twice as long, and I can’t do shoes and socks, but hey, I can preserve my modesty.
It’ll be tough without Andrew for the next six weeks, but that’s what Skype is for. He truly has been amazing and the perfect hubby! The next time he sees me, I’ll be walking into his arms inside the arrivals terminal at Abu Dhabi airport :)
No comments:
Post a Comment