Less than a week to go before knee surgery. And it could not get here soon enough for me. I received a call yesterday from the doctor’s office, saying that I needed to begin physical therapy THE DAY AFTER SURGERY.
Frankly, I would think they’d give me a day or two to milk this a wee bit more, but IT’S BACK IN THE SADDLE FOR ME.
I’ve had to get creative about getting from Point A to Point B in the meantime. The walker sits idle. Mocking me. I think I used it once to go 15 feet from the bedroom to the refrigerator, but I just felt stupid and hurled it into the black hole also known as my closet.
The not so stifled giggles from my offspring when they saw me shuffling across the room with it only added to my determination not to use the thing ever again. If you were ever a fan of Ruth Buzzy from Laugh-In, and her impersonation of an old lady, then you have an idea of my demeanor lately.
(And this is what happens to anyone who mocks me.)
My next mode of transportation has been the crutches. Which I finally mastered this last weekend. On Sunday, I had to teach Sunday School and I figured the crutches were the only way I was going to get through the morning. Besides, I figured, if a child got out of hand I could always WHACK ‘EM with the business thing of the left crutch. (Oh, I kid….sort of)
I thought it best if I practiced at home first. And I was awfully proud of my attempts until I realized that I really had no way of stopping other than to crash into something once I got going at a pretty impressive pace. They really should come with some sort of braking mechanism. Besides the wall.
I perhaps overdid it a bit on Sunday. Especially in light of stopping at Wal*Mart after church. Wal*Mart on a Sunday. With me on crutches. It’s a wonder no one was seriously injured in the mayhem.
By Monday I could no longer lift my arms. I heard that a soccer hockey (my copy editor just informed me I was in error) team actually trained by spending 6 months on crutches during practice months. To work out their upper body.
At the rate I’m going I’m going to be Arnold from the chest up, and Squiggy from the drumsticks down.
Then today we had planned on a trip to Disney World as our last hurrah before Spring Break black out dates. I went for the motorized wheel chair. I had hoped I could tackle a cast member and relieve him of his Segway in the parking lot, but he was too fast for me. What with me being hobbled and all. Still, I gave a good chase. All things considered.
The motorized wheelchair set us back $50. Which is why after next week I hope never to have to ever have use of one. But I have to say that the motorized wheelchair are hands down way better than the motorized wheelchairs at Wal*Mart. They zip along at a pretty good clip, are easy to maneuver through crying children and their exhausted parents, and have a cute little horn that has a high pitched BEEP BEEP. Not unlike the Roadrunner. AND I WAS NOT AFRAID TO USE IT.
One thing about being in a wheelchair, I felt rather invisible. People take their lives into their own hands by not looking and crossing right in front of a motorized wheelchair with no warning whatsoever. Especially one powered by me. Who is not really all that good a driver, and has nearly 50 years of repressed anger stored up.
This experience made me all the more aware of people who have no choice but to get around in wheelchairs. You can bet that I will be extra aware and patient from now on.
I’m counting down the minutes until surgery now. This has been such a learning experience for me. Never will I ever take my health for granted. And now I have so much more empathy for those who don’t have the choice of surgery.
I really feared I would be this way for the rest of my life. I’m thankful.
AND YOU SHOULD GET A LOAD OF MY BICEPS.