My trip to the hospital lasted from 6:00 in the morning on Tuesday to noon on Wednesday and involved a lot of awkward semi-sleeping, visits from sweet coworkers, watching bad TV with my boyfriend, many takings of my pulse, oxygen level & blood pressure, tons of drugs, and many very sweet nurses who loved having someone under the age of 60 on the floor. I apparently woke up from surgery moaning for Chapstick and putting on lotion for the first time after the surgery became one of the single most blissful feelings I've ever encountered. I painted my nails and started reading Serena by Ron Rash (my boss has challenged me to read 12 books while I'm out). I wore puffy leg wraps, which is a big upgrade from the puffy boots I had to wear last time. And now I can officially check "have a catheter placed" off my bucket list.
But most important, far more important than any of that: my surgery was a success, and my doctor is very pleased with how it went. Full recovery is highly likely, and after I have my one stitch (just one stitch!) out on November 10th, I'll start physical therapy. I was bedridden yesterday and nervous about getting up this morning, but once the physical therapist had me on my feet, I was so happy--I can sit and stand, walk and very carefully take steps if need be. I've been standing around a lot, just because it feels good. I mean...why not, right? The physical therapist thinks my biggest struggle will be remembering to take it easy; I'm moving pretty gingerly right now, but as my incision heals, I'm going to need to remind myself to take everything slow. I can't lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk right now, and I can't bend over much further than to lift the toilet lid. (At least I can make that happen.) I'm really looking forward to being able to bend over and pet my dog again.
Thank you all for your well wishes and support here and on Instagram! It was actually a lot of fun to keep up with everything via IG and show off my sweet boots and sharing the whole process was actually rather cathartic. I'll keep sharing too, I'm sure--nothing like some photos of bandages and PT to pass the time, and I can't wait to start taking outfit photos again!
And in case you were wondering, I was the best dressed patient when I was discharged--I wore this dress out of the hospital. Who says comfort has to come before style?