Light at the end of the tunnel

I won’t pretend to know what you’re thinking 
I can’t begin to know what you’re going through 
I won’t deny the pain that you’re feeling 
But I’m gonna try and give a little hope to you 

Just remember what I’ve told you 
There’s so much you’re living for 

There’s a light at the end of this tunnel 
There’s a light at the end of this tunnel 
For you, for you 

After living pretty much the same day over and over again: wake up, take pain meds, put on stupid pressure stockings, ice knee, exercise, ice knee, take pain meds, stare, sleep, stare, take pain meds, sleep, you get the picture; I went to see my surgeon. Granted, Vicki has been taking good care of me, and I have had visits from a physical therapist. But I have been looking forward to this day.

I ended up seeing the surgeon’s assistant, which was okay. She pulled the dressing off of my incision and examined it, and was satisfied with my progress. The incision oozed in a few places, but she stated that it appeared as it should.

I asked a few questions about my progress. I still am in quite a bit of pain and have to take substantial doses of painkillers. She said that since my legs were quite muscular I was experiencing more pain. But that it still was not abnormal. We discussed a plan for reducing the painkillers that seemed reasonable to me. I also asked about popping feelings and sounds coming from my knee. She explained that since my knee still has quite a bit of fluid in it, the part of the prosthetic cemented to the back of my kneecap was likely not riding precisely in the track prepared for it. Besides, since my knee is now metal and plastic, this isn’t uncommon. It made sense the way she described it.

She then gave us the best news of all. No more stupid pressure stockings! Vicki was as happy as me.

I am, then, a few days away from the what should be the end of the most painful time in this process – the first two weeks. Then I will begin the more serious phase of physical therapy.