On the mend

Despite the abundance of time I’ve had on my hands for the past few weeks I’ve been finding it difficult to motivate myself to write anything much, but here’s the rundown.

At 9am on Thursday morning, I was rolled into the elevator and brought down to level one for the big operation.   I know this is going to sound bad, but an observation I have made is that, for some reason, level one is where they place a lot of their better looking staff.  I mean this as no slight to the ladies I see every day up here, who are lovely, and treat me very well.  Maybe it’s because there’re a lot more people down there which increases the odds.  I don’t know.

Anyway, came to after the op at around noon, a little bit disoriented, with a burning pain in my leg.  I actually still thought I was waiting to go in until the nurse gave me a funny look and told me that I’d already had the operation.  I was brought back up to my ward and spent most of the day drifting in an out of sleep.  Didn’t really fancy my meals all that much and although the hospital food hadn’t seemed too bad before, even now, a week on, I’m finding it difficult to get back to demolishing it like I did last week.

The following day I was taken down to level one again to get my x-ray to see how the leg looked now it had been stuck back together, and an ultra sound to make sure I didn’t have any blood clots from lying around in bed most of the time (all clear).  The doctor came up with the x-ray later on and I was surprised at how much metal there was in there.  It looked a bit like my dad’s toolbox.  Twenty-four bolts in there.  I’m going to see if I can stick fridge magnets to it.

Anyway, since then I’ve had daily visits from the doctor, and the physio who trained me in the use of crutches and has given me exercises which I try to do on a regular basis.  I haven’t quite been doing them every hour, like he suggested, but on the other hand, I do manage more than the minimum of three times daily as well.  In fact, it’s not even midday yet, and I’ve already got three of them down. 

Yesterday, when they were changing my dressing I got to see how many stitches I got after my surgery.  Thirty-three.  I did take pics, but I’m not going to post those as they are a bit unpleasant to behold.

It was my birthday on Saturday, and also the day that my sis made it up from Singapore.  Additionally, being the weekend it was the day that many of the local CSers that had responded to my post in the KL group could come and see me.  So I spent the day with visitors coming and going, which was really good fun.   I was exhausted by the end of it, though.

On Monday, all the staff from this level came in to my room with a birthday cake and sang me Happy Birthday.  Obviously I was surprised, as it was no longer my birthday, and I wasn’t expecting anything from the hospital in any case.  The doctor had pointed out one of my birthday cards on my bedside locker earlier and asked me about it, so I think they must have rallied the troops together then.  A nice thought, and I tried to get a slice of cake to everyone, but there was a lot left over.

After that I think I’m out of news, except for the fact that I’m going to venture out of hospital for dinner this evening with my sister and some of the CSers that have been stopping by to see me here.  It’s going to be my first outing since the incident, so obviously I’m excited!  I’ll let you know how it goes

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Day one