Seven Days After

It's the one-week anniversary of the day they re-threaded my knee. Is there a Hallmark card for that? No? Slackers. I can't believe they haven't hit that one yet....

The knee itself is UG-LY. Sometimes it swells, but even when it doesn't, it's kind of a science-fiction-ish thing. The sutures are small, so this set of six scars will not be too bad. My knee is mostly still shaped like a knee, also pretty good. Right now, the worst part of any of it is the bruising. It looks like they hit me with a hammer all the way down my shin. Maybe they did. What do I know about it? The very cute anesthesiologist (a Dr. Luke) and/or his nurse anesthetist gave me some Very Good Drugs indeed, and I was gone long before I knew more than that the tile in this operating room, too, was blue. (Is it blue in all of them?)

I tried to go to school yesterday to take care of finalizing senior grades and closing out other things, but that was a mistake of epic proportions. I was okay for about the first hour, and then I started to have pain and disorientation. I made it through until about 1:30, and then I had to leave.

There were a few good moments, though. I got to see several of my seniors. I already miss that class. They were, for the most part, very sweet. Two of our very best brought me an arrangement of yellow roses. The roses are lovely, and once Mom and I found a spot here in the house where the cats won't snack on them, they brighten up my exercises.

I will try to express my gratitude to everyone for all that they've done in some nice thank you cards here soon because I know I haven't been able to express it verbally in my typical fashion. So many people have done so much, been so kind. I am humbled. There are some that I'm simply never going to be able to repay, like my mom and my friends at school who are picking up all the loose ends and keeping them from unraveling. Those debts go too deep.

I will have to sleep again soon. That's mostly what I do now. I am trying very hard not to get frustrated, but as you know if you read much here, I am not a patient person. My Wonder Woman complex tells me that I should be leaping tall buildings, blah, blah, blah, and my poor human body just laughs and laughs, demands a Vicodin and dozes off. I am trying to look at this philosophically as a patience-building exercise, but really, there is only so much sophistry my mind will let me get away with.

This, too, shall pass, I know. In the meantime, I think a nap on a rainy afternoon sounds about the right speed. I think there's a cryocuff full of ice waiting, too. This, right now, is my definition of bliss.