Thoughts on Surgery, rain, and love.

 I had my first and hopefully only Covid test today which is mandatory for my upcoming knee replacement. I still find it hard to use the word surgery.  I am a surgery rookie, unlike my wonderful sister. She is another long story. 

 We are in the middle of  a huge northern storm and it is raining cats, and dogs out there. It is a dark and dank day today.  But, the flowers, shrubs and plants needed a good spring soaking. A small humming bird was just at our feeder. Poor thing to be hungry on such a dismal day.

I am rather lucky to have found my soul mate about 35 years ago. He will be my pain coach, driver, and companion while I recuperate. He does not know how to make chicken soup, but, he has so many pluses in his resume, I can't list them.

I will be working hard to brake in my new knee the next few months. I look forward to no pain in my left knee, leg and back. I look forward to walking long distances, being flexible to walk up and down stairs and have my life back. I most likely will have to have my right knee done at some point. But, for the next few months, my focus will be on my left knee.

Blog for my left knee

 I was able to blog during the pandemic. My worries, my few joys, and mostly my fears. This entire time I have had a bad left knee. It needs to be replaced. It will be replaced on June 1 if all goes as planned.

I have been in pain for way to long. I have tried to act normal while I feel like crying, screaming, or even hiding under my bed spread.

Yesterday, for the first time, I admitted to myself, that the pain is real. I am walking strange, stairs are an issue and  I want my life back.

                                                                                

I so want to walk for miles, I so want to run up and down the stairs, I so want to take my garden wagon out of the shed and fill it up with weeds, fallen parts of trees, and other spring time clean up miscellaneous stuff. 

I have had a bad back since my twenties. I am now in my seventies. How have I dealt with the pain, and loss of activity for so long.  I have been in a pain fog so long, that it has become my reality.

I sit at my desk and look at the pile of hospital papers, x-rays, and a uncompleted prime directive. To ventilate or not to ventilate that is my question. I say go for life and fight for it every day and every second.