Rehab – 101

Well, that first eventful week came and went, with all its interesting facets. Now, as many knee replacement patients have often recounted, comes the hard part. And how accurate they were!

The first few days back in our flat were great. Familiar surroundings (so to speak), space to move around, ability to wash myself in privacy, people stopping by the flat to see how I am doing, and best of all the drugs were still doing their job – relatively pain free living.

Then the physical therapy sessions began. And so did the pain. The swelling has gone down dramatically in my knee this past week, which I’m told is a very good thing (and very quickly, I’m told by the therapist). I can actually see what looks like a knee structure in there now as opposed to a stuffed water balloon.  But all of this “good news” comes with a price. My nerve endings and my muscles, which had been enjoying that cushion of drugs and swelling, and had been hiding for the past couple of weeks, have now come alive. Oh, have they ever. The saddest part is that they seem to enjoying being active the most at night, when I would like to be resting the rest of my body.

So, while I had started to wean myself off the week of drug induced stupor at the hospital, now I’m finding that I have needed to start re-taking some pain medication again each night just to get through to the morning. Sleep is still coming in spurts – in between pillow relocation (between the knees), trying not to wake my wife who is going through her own PT for her neck/shoulder, waking up at all hours wincing when one of those nerve endings seems to have not taken its share of pain medication, and trying to walk to the bathroom on crutches while being drugged at 3am to take a pee. That latter vision is one that I hope never makes it on to YouTube – crutches going in every which direction while I wonder who I am and what in the world I am doing at that hour of the night.

Geepers, I haven’t even gotten to the PT part yet. That started on Friday of last week. I thought to myself, now we are finally getting on to the recovery road and things will get clicking now. They got clicking alright, but I think that was the bones in my leg I was hearing. Toni is really a very nice woman who means well and really knows her stuff, but she obviously isn’t the one who goes home each night to endure the agony of her day’s therapy. My first visit was pleasant enough, some massaging of the knee, some bending and stretching to get the muscles working properly again, and even a couple of electrode and water machines at the end to soothe over what she had just worked on. When it was over I thought, “Well, this won’t be as bad as everyone had said”. They say that first impressions are important, and yes, they are. But mulling over that impression for several hours is not a bad idea either. That evening several of my nerve endings woke up for the first time in many days from their drug high and reminded me that they were needing to discover what this strange new bionic contraption was that had invaded their territory.  I have been working on my drug induced truce with them for a few days now.

I tried to stay off the drugs for as long as I could but as the swelling went down, more and more nerves began waking up, and more muscles began to activate themselves into a chorus of pain. Just when I think it’s to a bearable point I make another visit to Terrible Toni’s Torture chamber and endure what I know in my heart and mind is good for my body. I just wish the mind would talk to the body and get on the same page with it.

So, as the days turn into weeks, and those turn into months, the therapy will continue and my knee will eventually gain its full bionic strength and I’ll be able to set off the security alarms at airports all over the world. Through all of this process God has been so abundantly good to Cathy and me. All of our needs have been supplied and we have enjoyed some fellowship with colleagues that we would not ordinarily be around. Thanks to all of you who have faithfully interceded for us during this season of life. Please don’t stop or let up. I may run out of medications soon…..

To God be the glory,