Last week, I had surgery on my knee. The MRI showed a tear in my meniscus. After 1.5 hours of exploratory surgery-not a single little tear could be found. Arghh!! The good news is I have just been hobbling around like a pirate for a few days instead of being on crutches throughout the upcoming holiday season. The bad news …well, I have a battle wound on my leg (AKA a scar) and we still don’t know what is wrong with my knee. So next steps are physical therapy and taking arthritis medication. Seriously, arthritis? For those that know me well, know I haven’t worn my bones out from my athletic prowess. My late grandmother suffered from arthritis. When the condition would bother her, she used to say her “Arthur” was acting up as if it was her mischievous friend. I guess, Arthur is now my new “friend.”
My husband has been most helpful and most gracious during my surgery and recovery. And frankly, I am a horrible patient. I am a grumpy beast. I hate depending on others and dislike having to sit and watch life pass me by while my leg is propped up at a certain angle and healing. I am humbled by individuals who have had to be patient while their bodies were healing for a long period of time. Anesthesia and pain killers make me sleep like a bear hibernating for the winter. However, through this experience, I have learned there is one job that you are never off duty for and that is the job of mom. You know you’re a mom when….
- In the surgery center recovery area you ask for Goldfish Crackers. And despite the amnesia, you remember being disappointed they were not the extra cheesy blast variety.
- Your bummed you got an entire night to yourself in a king size bed (husband, kido, and cat took the couch) and were too drugged to remember it.
- Having been sleep deprived for months you first thought after you realized you slept for 16 hours straight is “do I have bed sores?”
- While sleeping you remember a pirate with a hammer visiting your beside and you are pretty sure it was your toddler and not a weird dream.
- Instead of a bell, your husband leaves you a plastic trumpet on the night stand to blow if you need help. Honestly, my loving husband probably wanted to tell me where to shove that trumpet a few times.
- Your family says “It’s been 24 hours…aren’t you back to being superhero mom? “
- You have to take sponge baths for a week to avoid infecting your wound, but you forgot to ask the doctor about slobbery toddler kisses on your “boo boo.”
- You beg to go to the grocery shopping because it is considered “me time.”
- Your first meal post operation you ask for macaroni and cheese.
- You still can explain to someone what your toddler is saying even though you are drugged out the wazoo.
Today my spoon is full of thanks for good health! Mom’s don’t have time to be sick!