Thank you, Doogie, that's excellent... or, bathing is over-rated, anyway...

So, ah, today I popped along to XY Orthopaedics to be measured for my new 'bendy' (ie hinged) brace, which I assumed meant 'excellent, not so heavy/bulky, ease of movement, etc', and dare I hope, comfort...

Here's how it went...

After a good hour and half or so to get ready (without bothering to do hair or make-up; I'm talking 'bare essentials' here!), given I actually had a shower today, which involved the husband saying, 'I'm going to wrap you up like a chicken', then gladwrapping my leg, spraying me with the shower nozzle (not unlike he does when washing the dogs!), while I soaped myself and washed my hair, he then laughed at me when I got my undies stuck around the dodgy leg, finally pulled them up, only to give myself a wedgie :D Yep! An excellent start I'm sure you'll agree... It was my first shower since the nurse set me up for one in the hospital on Saturday and I only took one cos I was going out in public, but I'm sure my hygiene routine will improve...

So, after the leg-throbbing waddle to the car and 'the arse reverse' (a new, but handy, skill I've acquired) into the backseat and 'gliding' (I use that term loosely, and largely, inaccurately!) along, we get going, me hanging on for dear life over any tiny bump, let alone, sudden braking... Don't worry, I have my seatbelt on... well, passing my neck to my knee, without actually strapping anything in; it's more to appease the cops, than provide safety, really...

Paul missed the turn-off to the hospital, so we turn around, go to the car park of the new hospital, hoping it'll link up with the old hosptial. It doesn't. We come straight back out, ask for directions (fortunately there just happened to be a man standing near the boom gate, even though it was automated?), back to where we started, take the right ramp, but still no sign of XY Orthopaedics.

A woman comes out of the building, so Paul asks where to park/drop me off for XY Orthopaedics and she says to reverse a bit and go in from there...

We do. Paul lets me out while he goes to find a proper park, and I am of course greeted by STAIRS - ooh, my favourite, I say, rubbing my hands with glee! And promptly falling over. I find the lift to level 1, HOBBLE some more, bypass reception/bothering to check in and find the nearest couch to collapse on...

Paul soon finds me and says, 'ah, I found a ramp to parking on THIS level so we didn't need to do the stairs'... Ahem... Excellent.

I get Paul to register my arrival, as I am not moving until told otherwise...

Soon after, a physio no older than, well, Doogie Howser, introduces himself and invites me into his office... He is very nice and says, 'um, I'll let you sit on the chair for now, but I will get you on to the bed in a minute, as I can see you're still in considerable pain'...

I deduce that his observation skills can only be described as EXCELLENT...

We talk braces and life post-op thus far, and he says, 'You'll probably find this 30-degree one' (the current maximum I have to bend my knee, and trust me, it is the max I want to bend my knee!) a little more uncomfortable than the other one..."

THUD... goes the sound of my hopeful expectations plummeting southwards... Oh...

He gets the little steps out and I make my way up onto the bed - like a freaking champion!

He measures the brace against my leg and decides it's too long - cuts some bits off, marks up four points on my leg, fits the padding, then the straps and squishes the knee-support bits in as far as possible, saying, 'you'll find it won't provide as much support as the other one, so just be careful'...

Bleeding marvellous... Then again, I was hardly going to tapdance out of there, just because I could move my knee 30 degrees!

Other than the bendability, it's essentially the same as the other. I have to leave it on pretty much permanently, 'walk' in it, sleep in it, and of course, when the urge becomes me, tapdance in it...

Given its greater doing-up and undoing complexities, I can see it making me even less inclined to bathe... hmmm...

Oh, and bless Doogie's heart, I must've flashed him a million times when fitting it (dresses are, and will remain to be, the easiest thing to wear for some time!) and he maintained his professionalism and didn't bat an eyelid! Sorry, Doogie...

As I hobbled off, I thanked Doogie profusely, because he really was lovely and I didn't want him to think I was hobbling off without thanking him, but I just wanted to, you know, get a head start... These things take time and may as well be tackled as soon as possible.

So, as I made my way to the car, while Paul fixed the bill - yes, $255 for the involuntary upgrade - but we get to 'keep' the last one (hooray - I'll hang onto that for when I do my left knee!), Doogie says to Paul, 'Do you want to double-check where the car is, so she doesn't walk all that way for nothing?' (Oh I like you, Doogie!), so Paul goes ahead, gives me the nod, says, 'keep coming and turn left'...

I take my sweet time in doing so, tempted to take several overnight stopovers en route... eventually arriving at destination Honda Jazz, having said, '*#(*#&*#9!' more times than I thought I would, and find the doors locked... Oh thank you, husband...

I lean on the car, alter my position a few times, lean my head on my crutches and try to put my left foot under my right ankle to provide some kind of anti-blood-rushing-down-my-$(%*()$)-leg support, as the physio showed me - a neat trick to get the leg up to/down from the bed too!

Minutes, hours?, (felt like) DAYS later, Paul comes running, 'click click', 'oh, sorry, I forgot'.

Home now. Quite exhausted... too scared to walk on it, let alone bend it, so let's see how Mr Bendy-boot goes...

D Day, or rather Knee Day, has arrived...

I am currently savouring the freedom of unassisted mobility... pain-free movement, pain-free, well, everything! Admiring my scar-free, unsliced knee and hammy, that as of tomorrow, will be no longer...

Semi-nervous, but kinda not... Not so nervous about the procedure itself as I am the aftermath, the initial discomfort, the months of physio ahead and the immense frustration of not being able to do things I would 'automatically' do... Patience is not my forte... :) A patient patient? even less so :D

I had the conversations with the hospital today, so am going through my checklist (xrays, MRIs, consent form, health insurance, yadda yadda) and contemplating what 'garment' to take that will fit over my bandage and brace... Hmmm... I'm thinking this:

See you on the other side...