It has been a month since I posted anything here. Sorry. It's been a busy month. The flower is a columbine blossom, one of the prettiest that bloomed this spring. I figured that faithful readers could use something nicer than a photo of two aging people as a reward for navigating here.
As for the title of this post, it is exactly what it purports to be. Fran and I have both had medical procedures that involved cutting us open. We are in the midst of making our recoveries. Our son, Cameron has come to help us since we both are physically limited for a while.
Fran, after long nagging by me and her surgeon, consented to have one of her knees replaced. She has been very conscientious about doing the prescribed exercises, both before and after the operation. She is recovering more quickly than I had hoped and the visiting nurse and physical therapist are pleased. She seems to be suffering less pain than anticipated, but is still leery of the proposed replacement of her other knee. It's going to happen, but she wishes that she had convinced the surgeon to do both of them at once.
As for me, after I got sick at the celebration where the photo was taken, doctors decided that I no longer needed a gall bladder that didn't work very well. It was yanked a couple of weeks before Fran's surgery. The surgeon took the opportunity to repair some hernias that had developed after my other surgeries. The result was that my belly looked like someone had patterned a shotgun on it. The blood thinners given before and during surgery produced a long, lateral bruise that made it appear that after I had been shotgunned, the shooters had run over me with a truck.
All that is getting better. Next week, my weight limits will be upped to the point I can pick up either of our cats (not both at once.) Bruising is fading. I am up to walking three miles on road. I'm working up to cross country hiking. But that will take some time. I am off the pain medications given me when I went home.
We do not have a fixed schedule for Fran's next knee replacement. But Cameron will return to his home in a week or so. For the next one, our daughter has drawn the care giver job. She said that she would like to be here now too. But she is still among the working classes and family leave can go only so far.
In spite of these happy changes, I am still not writing anything. I have not worked up to the extensive re-writes that publisher Serena indicated were necessary to make my stories marketable. Maybe I'll just break down and publish one here sometime.
