It’s good to be home moaning(to be sure) and mending(hopefully) . The attentive care of family and friends bandages my spirit with hope all will be well.
The recliner’s become my goal to get to or out of between PT sessions and grabbing a fresh bag of frozen peas to tend my wounded knee.
The visiting nurse stopped by to “ask a few questions” and see if I’m in a safe place. The questions took a while but didn’t include, “Do you know what day it is? ” Part way through she looked a little nervous, then asked, “Do you wish to be resuscitated? We have to ask.”
Well, I’d heard PT was really challenging after knee surgery but didn’t think death so imminent. Gives one pause.
As for my wishes, they were simpler. I wish I could be a poster child for healing without complications. I wish she’d stop asking so many questions so I could hobble to the bathroom, then enjoy lunch with Heather.
On the nobler side, I’m grateful for visiting nurses and Physical Therapists who come to the house so I could come home, instead of rehab.
Speaking of, I’m sticking mostly to Tylenol so I don’t end up in Rehab for reasons other than my knee.
Since 4:00 yesterday, Maggie’s been my nurse. (age 10) Chad spent the night since Heather had to return yesterday morning. Maggie cheers me when I do the exercises and doesn’t let the moaning scare her.
Last night, after a tough day, I tentatively settled into the recliner for the night, Maggie brought blankets, fresh water and kissed me goodnight.
As I was falling asleep, I heard her singing outside my door, “Silent Night, Holy Night. All is Calm.”
Her turn to tuck me in with a song.
Sweet role reversal.
Aging has its blessings.
I slept “in heavenly peace.”
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