In case you haven't noticed, there hasn't been a whole lotta knitting going on around here in awhile. OK, spurts (Olympic knitting, anyone?) of it here and there. But I'm just not cranking out the FOs I used to. It's not from a lack of interest. I still dearly love my yarn, my needles, my knitting. I just can't really sit comfortably long enough to get much done. My backside is not what it was.
Back on Dec. 4th, Peter decided to drag us all out to brunch as a treat. I was the last one out the door and I have no idea how it is that everyone else managed to make it down the steps without hitting that one little icy patch the Ice Melt missed. But they did. And I didn't. I also don't know how it was that no one already in the van happened to notice me writhing around on the walk after my tailbone made direct contact with the edge of a cement step. But there was brunch--made-to-order omelets, Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream *drool*--to be had so I picked myself up, grit my teeth and hobbled onward.
OK, I knew I hurt myself. I also know there's not usually much to be done with a cracked/bruised/injured tailbone (I joked about needing an ass cast--my friends could all sign it with Sharpies!--but it's not like there really is such a thing, right?) besides wait for it to heal.
Not-so-fast forward to mid-March. The bum was still a hurtin'. I dragged myself off to the doc, requesting drugs...or an ass transplant...something. It's embarrassing to bare your battered butt, even to your trusted lady doc. *blush* But she took my pain seriously and chastised me for not coming in sooner. I left with a handful of 'scripts (anti-inflammatories, vicodin) and an order for xrays.
The xrays weren't pretty. I'd managed to break my tailbone (which really isn't a bone...it's cartilage) completely off into three pieces, one of them pushed up and behind the others. Just grinding away everytime I moved. Ouch. I got sent to an orthopedic surgeon. "Oh, wow, those need to come out! But I don't deal with the spine." Great. He gave me the number of another doc (with a completely unpronounceable name, at the Colon & Rectal Surgery Center...doesn't that sound like a fun place?) he thought did deal with that area. I saw this other doc yesterday and he agrees they do need to come out. Surgery is scheduled for May 16th.
Hold me, I'm skeered.
Recovery is going to be a bear. I don't think I'll be allowed (or able) to sit, lie on my back, or drive for around 6 weeks. Forget the question of how I will take care of my family with Peter off in Mexico (he won't even be here for my surgery *sob*), how hard do you think it will be to knit lying on my belly with my arms hanging off the end of the bed? Throw in the drugs. This oughta be interesting. I might even post pics.
Back on Dec. 4th, Peter decided to drag us all out to brunch as a treat. I was the last one out the door and I have no idea how it is that everyone else managed to make it down the steps without hitting that one little icy patch the Ice Melt missed. But they did. And I didn't. I also don't know how it was that no one already in the van happened to notice me writhing around on the walk after my tailbone made direct contact with the edge of a cement step. But there was brunch--made-to-order omelets, Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream *drool*--to be had so I picked myself up, grit my teeth and hobbled onward.
OK, I knew I hurt myself. I also know there's not usually much to be done with a cracked/bruised/injured tailbone (I joked about needing an ass cast--my friends could all sign it with Sharpies!--but it's not like there really is such a thing, right?) besides wait for it to heal.
Not-so-fast forward to mid-March. The bum was still a hurtin'. I dragged myself off to the doc, requesting drugs...or an ass transplant...something. It's embarrassing to bare your battered butt, even to your trusted lady doc. *blush* But she took my pain seriously and chastised me for not coming in sooner. I left with a handful of 'scripts (anti-inflammatories, vicodin) and an order for xrays.
The xrays weren't pretty. I'd managed to break my tailbone (which really isn't a bone...it's cartilage) completely off into three pieces, one of them pushed up and behind the others. Just grinding away everytime I moved. Ouch. I got sent to an orthopedic surgeon. "Oh, wow, those need to come out! But I don't deal with the spine." Great. He gave me the number of another doc (with a completely unpronounceable name, at the Colon & Rectal Surgery Center...doesn't that sound like a fun place?) he thought did deal with that area. I saw this other doc yesterday and he agrees they do need to come out. Surgery is scheduled for May 16th.
Hold me, I'm skeered.
Recovery is going to be a bear. I don't think I'll be allowed (or able) to sit, lie on my back, or drive for around 6 weeks. Forget the question of how I will take care of my family with Peter off in Mexico (he won't even be here for my surgery *sob*), how hard do you think it will be to knit lying on my belly with my arms hanging off the end of the bed? Throw in the drugs. This oughta be interesting. I might even post pics.
1 comment:
Yikes. I hope surgery goes well and you all can make it through okay. I'll be thinking of you :)
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