Well, it finally happened – the MIL went into hospital for her hip and they managed to do the op instead of booting her off home. They duly got her out of bed after 24 hours so it looks like all is so far going to plan despite the FIL muttering things about doom and gloom and how nothing is ever quite as good as it seems. Still, that’s good too, because it means everything is quite normal in the IL household – they are just like my dear departed grandmother, never happy unless there is something to complain about….
Anyway, she’s off her PCA pump and onto tablets, although she claims that was because the PCA machine was getting in the way. When I was in hospital, nothing, and I mean nothing *1, would have prised that little PCA button out of my fingers – as it was I was considering asking them to surgically graft it on to me in case I lost it in the night….I would even have considered marrying it if I wasn’t already taken.
Anyway, fingers crossed all round for a speedy and pain free recovery, please.
*1 and I include a visit from the Chippendales*2 here…
*2 Go on girls.....click the link....you know you want to......
There, I thought that would get your attention! Now before you think I’ve gone completely mad, I think I’d better explain.
Seriously, hubby bought me a fluffy dog for when I go away on my trips. Most of you know all about it anyway, as I listed him on my packing list before I went into hospital. Anyway, my poor deluded cat has decided that the dog is no longer mine- it’s hers. To start with, she is what is traditionally called a wool sucker although she plainly prefers fake fur to real wool as she will spend hours on top of the dog, purring away and sucking on his ear. She sometimes decides that really she’d like a change of scenery and drags the dog down off the bed and tries to make her way out of the bedroom and off down the stairs. It’s a problem though for her in that the dog is pretty much the same size as she is! So – there she is, dog in mouth, straddling its body and dragging it along. Because of its size she keeps standing on it and that stops her dead in her tracks and then she has to move her feet to have another go, only for the same thing to happen again. She manfully (well womanfully in her case) struggles on, but generally gives up before she’s got to the landing. What do you suppose I do when she’s doing all this – am I upset because she’s stolen the dog? Nope, I’m usually just too busy laughing at the sight of it all to care…..
So 8 months has rolled round at last and it now all seems like so long ago that I was one of the people avidly reading and rereading the forum entries and the blogs of the recently operated to see what my future held. Now I am one of the not so recently operated – I am now one of those people who have had the job done and now see the path of the rest of my life unrolling before me in a very different way to my pre-op days. Those days when I couldn’t decide if I really was bad enough to warrant such major surgery (believing as I did that a couple of 60++ curves ‘could be worse’) seem very far away now. It’s a curious thought that when I do look back to the time when I knew my curves were worsening - although I was concerned for my future, I was prepared to simply accept it as the way things were (in a sh*t happens, live with it kind of way). Now, I have had the surgery and have recovered well, I cannot believe that I would have been prepared to accept a constant deterioration with this naïve and simple type of resigned stoicism. I see my future now as being like anyone else’s, where barring the completely unexpected, I will trundle into the future in basically the same shape that I am now. In fact (and this is prompted by visiting my mother recently and finding that I now ‘tower’ over her*1) I guess that due to my wonderful metalwork holding my spine up, I won’t shrink with age in quite the same way that most people do – maybe in time, I can become the tallest of all my friends (apart from maybe the BUF who has impossibly long and enviable legs).
So, all that philosophising (wondering) aside, how am I? Well, I am very well indeed and have even caught myself thinking that it has all been a ‘big fuss over nothing’ until of course I lift up my shirt and peer curiously at my scar in the mirror again. It is an amazing piece of work and now has even started to turn from pink to white in places. I still love it as much as I hate the one on my back from my spina bifida. One represents a choice, decision and journey whilst the other was an accident of birth and I simply don’t view them in the same way at all. (Oops, there I go, wondering hat on again). The area around my ribs under my scar still gets sore and I still can’t poke it without it hurting (and yes I know I shouldn’t poke it then) and I still get backache pretty much every day, but it is different to the way it was before. As I mentioned a few days ago, if I had a bad day today, then I’d have one tomorrow too, and usually the day after – it could take me quite some time to get over a weekend away or a competition, but now my recovery time is really good. Even my trip to China and my 25 hours straight travelling took me less than a week to get over – something that would have taken me weeks and weeks to get over before the operation. I am much more resilient in that way and I’m still only 8 months when they said I wouldn’t be fully healed until 12 months (but heck, why settle for doing things at the same pace as everyone else, eh?). Speaking of pain, I still have to take the nerve pain pills for my leg – I’ve managed to reduce the dose a bit but its slow progress. Maybe that’s what will take the full 12 months…
Speaking of legs (agh, that’s a poor link) I carry on walking with 2 sticks when I’m outdoors. As much as anything it’s a matter of safety (um like they stop me falling over!) and they also help me maintain a much better posture. Around the house though, I’m getting on just fine without them - there’s always something to grab hold of if I fall. The other good thing with the legs is that although I still don’t have the same feeling or movement in my thigh that I had pre-op, the ‘different’ way of moving it is now becoming second nature. Movement doesn’t require the same level of concentration and even though I still have to ‘assist’ my leg into the car for example, the ‘workarounds’ that I’ve been using are becoming the norm which is making life much easier.
So, that’s pretty much it as a progress report. Hopefully at 9 months (next time) I will have news of a hospital review appointment – I called them last week and they told me the computers were down so they couldn’t tell me when it was likely to be. I did offer to plug myself into their system and see if I could put it right – well, you never know, when you’re already part Borg, anything could happen…..
*1 Actually, perhaps tower is a little too strong a word. Certainly I feel taller than her and she has shrunk, but I had shoes on at the time and she did not!
*2 The six month one that I was supposed to have 3 months after the three month one that was held at 4 months if that makes sense…
Well, just in case you have gone blues*1 with all this holding your breath waiting for news, I thought I'd do a quick update.
The man in the garage was VVV nice indeed and my wing mirror is now back as it should be. It is also complete with greasy fingermarks which I am debating whether to leave or not, in much the same way that you never wash your face again when someone nice kisses it.... Sadly I cannot fold it in against the car, such things having not been invented in 1983 but at least it has a nice strong spring in it, so it will give way without breaking if necessary (I think we proved that already too). I shall make sure I tuck it well into the kerb in future tho' - preferably next to the neighbour's huge Volvo, which they keep leaving outside my window, so their mirror gets it first (heh heh
!)
My new hard drive has finally arrived (way to go on accurate (not!) delivery dates Amazon*2) so my data is being transferred tomorrow and then I should be back to normal - whatever that is around here...
*1)Like this?
-and try clicking too...
*2Ooops, sorry, didn't mean to name and shame
Just because I park on the street does not mean that stupid people who don’t know how to drive should be allowed to run into my wing mirror!!!
I came out of the house to go to a meeting with the BMB and noticed that my wing mirror no longer reflected anything – because it was missing! My nice classic car, ruined by some thoughtless, stupid (grrrr) $%*£%@d. 
Not knowing quite what to do (the prat having long since gone and with me, by this time, running late *1) I drove off up the road and then turned (because I actually needed to be going in the other direction) in the park entrance (like I normally do) *2. It was dark*3. Anyway, coming back down the hill, I had a sudden thought – what if my poor mirror was lying in the road unsmashed but unloved, just waiting for another heartless b*****d to drive over it? I couldn’t bear the thought and stopped (I was late already so what price a few minutes more) and started grubbing around in the puddles on the side of the road *4. Amazingly, I found it, mirror and surround intact with the just the mechanism for remote adjustment broken (no loss there, it didn’t work anyway). Off to the meeting, apologised to the BMB who was suitably sympathetic (that’s why he’s the BMB) and decided to wait until daylight to put it back together.
So today I went outside (very carefully, don’t want to trip and smash it now…) and find that it’s a ball and socket fit. I am not strong enough to get to click into place and don’t want to force it (or persuade it into place with a hammer) in case I break it – looks like I’m off to see P@NGD (the garage) …….he’d be another VVNM then…
*1 Cursing and swearing can take quite some time you know…
*2 I know you don’t need to know this, I was just setting the scene.
*3 Setting the scene some more
*4 Did I mention it had been raining? 
Well, not really, I just wanted and eye catching attention grabbing headline!
The new PC is now up and running nicely, but I still haven’t managed to get my data across from my old hard drive. It includes a pre-written report on my 8 month update and rather than typing it in all over again I have just decided to delay it until I get all the stuff back. So give me a bit of time and I’ll be putting in my, er, 8½ month report any day now…
We had a great weekend last weekend. The BUF and her VNSO*1 came down to see us and we had a really nice relaxing time. On Friday the BUF listened to me whitter on about life’s little mysteries (in only the way that a BF can) over a nice bottle of red wine. We stopped at one bottle as my tablets still say ‘avoid alcohol’. I’m not quite certain if this means I shouldn’t drink the stuff, or just not go down the wine aisle in Tesco in case a bottle falls on my head. Whichever, I was trying to be (moderately) sensible – I avoided Tesco altogether and didn’t drink too much..
You may wonder why the VNSO has suddenly picked up a nickname like that from me. Of course, it could be because he is a) a significant other and b) very nice (obviously) but it’s more to do with the new men who came into my life (temporarily) last week. You see they were very nice men, in fact, very, very nice men….The first was the manager in the computer shop – not only is going to transfer all my data for me onto a hard drive that I haven’t even bought in his shop but he even got me a chair to sit on*2 when I had to wait for him to finish something else. What a VVNM he was. Next was the VVNM who finally managed to fit my new CD player in my car (yes, it is finally in). He did a lovely job; very neat extra wiring and even drove my car home for me afterwards so I didn’t have to get a taxi. Of course hubby says it’s just ‘cos he wanted to drive my car but I’m sure it was because he had his extra nice hat on. So, I decided, in a week of two very nice men that I could do with a third one….
*2This doesn’t normally happen in the real world, even if you are a granny with one leg pushing a pushchair and carrying several bags. It’s like people giving up their seat on the bus…or not….
Aaargh! It happened....
....that horrible moment when you look at the PC and wonder why the screen has just gone white. You reboot and nothing happens except a series of ominous sounding beeps and still the screen stays white....
After a few minutes panic you rush to huby's laptop and google bios beeps - it tells you that the series you just heard means your motherboard went kaput, phut and bang all at once (actually it didn't really say that but it did use the nasty word 'failed'). So we open up the box and inside there is a nasty glowing spot in the motherboard circuitry. I'm guessing motherboards are not meant to glow like lightbulbs...
To cut a very long story short, I am now typing this with a new system box sat beside me. The very nice manager at the computer shop is personally involved in my case (told you it was a long story - but I'll save that for another time) and has promised to copy all my data from my old hard drive onto an external backup drive for me. Annoyingly I ordered the external drive from Amazon but it hadn't arrived by Saturday so I haven't actually backed up since April (smack my wrists..!).
Anyway, bear with me - I shall be spending the next few days re-installing all my software so shall be a bit busy for blogging. At least you get the benefit right now of me testing whether I got my internet connection set up and running properly yet. I guess if you're reading this I must have eh? *1 *1No smilies yet tho' - they come as a plug in with Firefox (amazing browser!) - one of those things I am going to be spending the next few days installing....
I promised myself I wouldn’t really blog about my back apart from in the monthly updates but I just thought this was odd and so I thought I’d share (or whinge, complain grouse etc etc *1).
You see, my back always used to talk to me – it would twitter away in the background and tell me that I was doing just a bit too much and if I carried on, if I didn’t suffer later, I’d wake up mighty sore tomorrow. Most of the time I ignored it hoping it would shut up and them I’d be mighty sore in the morning and would beat myself up before carrying on and doing the precise same thing again. Learn from it? No way José! Anyway, at least I knew where I was and if I felt like being sensible (stop sniggering right now 
) I would take a break and might escape the worse of it.
So, now, the twittering has shut up and that’s great – the only problem is, it still hurts if I do too much. So, it goes like this – I get stuck into something (the cleaning maybe*2), everything seems fine and then suddenly it socks me between the eyes (well in the centre of the back truthfully) – and it hurts! What about that, no warning, just kapow and all that. That’s not very fair, is it?
Anyway, the good thing in all of this is that if I stop right then (not like I get too much choice by this stage) and take it easy for a bit, the kapowwing*3 stops and (even better this) I’m not sore in the morning. This is great – no more morning spasms for me thank you very much (so far so good and all that) – I just wish I could figure out at which point too much is too much, before it really is too much….
*1 you know, just like I always do
*2 well, not the ironing, obviously…the pile is now nearly 3ft tall after all...
...and is developing a personality all of it’s own.
*3 I know this isn’t a word, but it should be
So, the poor ole MIL is back home. It turns out that her GP had recently changed her medication (in fact, just 4 days ago!) and her system needs to get used to it before they can operate - so they sent her home. I suppose keeping her nil by mouth for the next three weeks until they could take her to theatre would be a bit drastic after all, however much she fancies losing a few pounds! Anyway, she was up on the ward getting her blood pressure taken and stuff while the FIL*1 and I had coffee downstairs. Less than an hour later, when we went back up to the ward to say goodbye and wish her luck, she was all packed up and ready to go home. So, we get a reprieve for 3 weeks and she has 3 more weeks to get stressed out again. At least I now know where the hospital is and have found the car park so I guess we just take it as a ‘dry run’.
Ah well, gives me a bit more time to find heart warming stories of how well other people have done and how they are riding bikes and climbing mountains. In fact, T (of A&T fame, remember them?) took up fencing after he had both of his hips done so maybe she’ll get a new hobby or two with inspiration like that….
So, I woke up *1 to find that Bugalugs*2 had one foot in my ear, another braced against my chin and was drooling down my neck. It was an interesting start to a day….
Today is the day that the MIL*3 goes in for her hip replacement. She is still highly suspicious of anyone who tells her that she will be out of hospital in less than a week and that it is a routine procedure as she bases her hospital experience on an extended hospital stay (for something which would now be routine) which took place over 50 years ago. Even my recent operation has not convinced her (“Ah, but you’re much younger than me” *4) and so I hope that she will be pleasantly surprised by the whole experience – and as delighted with her results as I am with mine.
All this leads to the fact that when hubby woke up (he did not have any feet in his ear as far as I know) he looked out the window and it was raining. Now I know this makes no sense, just ‘cos the MIL is going in for surgery does not logically mean it will rain (not does the lack of feet in the ear), but that’s the facts, he woke up (no feet), looked out the window and it was raining. In fact, it was more than raining, it was p*ssing it down and he just didn’t fancy walking the mile to the railway station. “Why not?”, I asked “Character building” I said (no I didn’t, I’m just making that up) – what I said was – “you’ll have to take my car, I need yours today to get your mother to the hospital. She’ll never manage to get into a 2+2 sports coupe before she’s had her hip done*5” – so he did….
A while later the phone rings:
Me: Hello, yes?
Hubby: I just thought you’d like to know I got to the station safely in your little car and didn’t scrape it round any of the corners in the multi storey car park. I even managed to find all the switches. There was one small problem though.
Me: Eeekk, is the car OK? (Please note wifely concern for hubby)
Hubby: Yes, fine, it’s just I kind of fell into it – it’s a long way down into it isn’t it?
Me: No (indignantly) – it’s just it’s a long way up into any other kind of car
A stunned silence follows…..
*1 I feel that it is good to do this, at least once per day.
*2 Just in case you need reminding, Bugalugs is not hubby, but is one of my cats.
*3Mother in Law
*4 Conveniently overlooking the fact that I think a hip op would be a walk in the park (no pun intended) by comparison.
*5 Actually I’m sure she could get in, but she’d never make it out and as much as I like my MIL, I don’t want a permanent passenger.
