I'm comin' home... to see my baaaby!

Finally home after sixteen days in the hospital. I didn't think they would keep me that long but the additional PT was worth it. I find I am fairly mobile at home although I move at the speed of sloth. My walker is even the latest model with dual wheels and the latest in drag/skid technology. It's good to be in familiar surroundings. Pele has been curiously sniffing my knees sensing, like only a dog could, that something occurred there. No nurses in and out asking me my full name and birth-date prior to every poke and probe and serving meals.

I will miss my therapists, Ray and Rhonda, they were especially attentive and encouraging. They said I was one of the most motivate people they had encountered in a long tome. I found that hard to believe as I only did what they asked me to do  - no more. I guess a lot of people walk about five steps then quit and turn around. The stretching hurts so they request a stop to it. I never felt like I was pushing it, I just let them do their thing. Hell yes it hurt - as everyone said it would. I guess I figured that was part of the deal. They brought me close to tears a few times.

The twelve days in therapy had highs and lows. I can't judge progress day-to-day, I have to look at it every 3-4 days to make any sense of it. Some days I was so stiff I couldn't move. Other days I felt loose and yet couldn't do anything additional. One thing I didn't expect was the tightness of the muscles in my thighs. My quads felt as if someone had cut three inches of length out of them and sewed them back together. They are tight and feel hard as iron most of the time. I have more pain from my muscles than from the joints they replaced and all the bones they cut.

I had my ups and I had my downs and each could occur in the same day. I only broke down once and that was the day I came home. I awoke with tighter than normal muscles and felt groggy during the morning sessions of PT. I was laying on my back on one of the big mats while Ray lifted my leg, bent my knee and forced my leg back stretching the muscles - the tears began to flow.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked. 
"No." But I couldn't stop crying.
Ray carefully placed my leg back down on the mat then left to bring back a tissue or two which I took to wipe my eyes. "What's up?" he asked.
"I guess it's just the thought of going home." I answered. "While you're in the hospital you can forget about everything because there's nothing you can do; you're stuck. But now that I'm heading home I am thinking about all the things I need to do, work, home, family responsibilities,  it's overwhelming me because I know how far I have to go down this painful road before I will feel 'normal' again." It all kind of came crashing down on me.

Ray understood. A 30 year-old Iraq Veteran, recently divorced with two small children living with their mother in California. He is moving there next month to be closer to them. He understands how painfully hard it can be just getting back to 'normal'.

I have come to the conclusion that PT is more than just improving the movement in my joints.

Swag Bag

When you go someplace and pay as much as I have for the privilege, one should expect only the finest of Swag Bags. Now granted, this isn't the Oscars but hey, Intermountain Healthcare does OK and they should shell out occasionally to those of us that enter on the red carpet. I got here last Thursday and finally received my Swag Bag Wednesday.

I just took a luxurious shower sitting on a lovely chair made of 3 inch PVC tubing. Clean shirt, shorts - I was feeling like a million bucks. Then it suddenly appeared, the bootie! Placed delicately on the counter next to the sink. It had the familiar kidney shape of a nausea tray - which of course it was. I eagerly tore off the clear plastic cover anxious to discover each goodie donated by valuable sponsors thanking me for my patronage: A new toothbrush, toothpaste, two (yes two) disposable razors complete with shaving cream, and my own personalized deodorant. I spotted something in a shiny emerald tubular case at the bottom and began to remove the razors to retrieve the small treasure.

"Oh, Chap-stick," said the elderly aide behind me, "I think I'll take that for myself." She reached down from behind my soft seat in the wheelchair, grabbed it and quickly lathered her wrinkly lips then placed it firmly in her front pocket and walked out. I was speechless. I still am. Suddenly I no longer feel like a big star! WTF!

Well the last five days in the hospital have gone well to say the least. However I haven't felt good enough to write anything - thus the delay in posts.

I was a little concerned the day of surgery when the anesthesiologist couldn't insert the spinal block. I guess he worked for 45 minutes and still couldn't get it inserted so they went with general anesthesia. He did leave a nice bruise on my back as a sign of his diligent effort. It made no difference in the surgery but I guess I was a piece of work in recovery. Fortunately I don't remember the pain. I've had femoral block catheters in both legs which deadens the nerves at the front of each leg. On a scale of 1-10 my pain level has been a 1. So I can't say how much I have been suffering here because I haven't. I woke up feeling chipper and talkative which was a sign to Marian that things weren't normal. HAHA! Thursday and Friday were good days. I actually got up an walked on Friday. Not a 5K or anything but I made it around the nurses station.

Saturday was a little different. I wanted to get up as my back was killing me. Kind of like that feeling you get when you've been on a long flight. Like a mule has kicked you in the coccyx. Still level 1 pain in the knees, but level 8 pain in the butt! I tried to stand and stretch and made it as far as the door to my room but had to circle back for an emergency landing. The gyro was spinning out of control and the landing gear was blinking red on the console. Not a good start to the day. So Saturday was spent fighting the demons of discouragement.

I did get out for short stroll Saturday night so I ended on a positive note. Sunday the family came after Easter dinner; quite a crowd for this little room. They all had to make jokes about my fashionable bed-wear and my bad case of bed-head. I wouldn't have it any other way. They all wanted to see the "wound" so they took off the covers and the ice packs and the wrappings and the room was filled with oohs and aahs. Everyone wanted to be sure that my robe didn't get lifted too high. They moved it ever-so-gingerly like I was hiding a rattlesnake under there. HAHA! Of course they made more fun of my swollen knees and ankles and Dad's funny feet - They never stop; they are so easily entertained.

Marian has been a trooper through all of this staying with me far longer than I expected her to and doing some of the nurse chores. None of the nurses believe she is the mother of eight kids. I love you Marian Anne!

My Doctor and friend Kirt Kimball nailed the process. The nurses are all over it and the support from friends and family has been amazing. I feel guilty for stealing the prayers and well-wishes from those who are much more deserving and in worse straits than I am. My results will be positive and life-improving; not everyone here is so lucky. I do feel very fortunate.

I hope you all had a good Easter/Passover and have taken a moment to ponder the miracle of the Resurrection and Atonement and how each of you can personally take advantage of that in your life. His suffering for us was more than just for sin; it was for trials and tribulations of all manner. My love to each of you.

T - Minus 24 hours!

I went to the Doctor Tuesday for my pre-surgery regimen; blood test, urine sample, EKG. I felt like a car going through a diagnostic prior to getting its engine rebuilt. After the EKG the technician said "perfect". I asked if that was a diagnosis or rhetorical. "Rhetorical" was his answer. "But everything looks good", he added - whatever that means.

The nurse ran through the routine with me telling me the process. I have to arrive at the hospital at 5:15AM Thursday morning. I should shower, scrub and disinfect the "areas" before I come. The orderly will shave me... that's good and I hope they inform him that I'm just getting my knees worked on. She told me what to bring and what to leave home. She also informed me of what to expect from the medications that will be used and to take them whether I felt the need or not.

Five days in the hospital, seven in a rehab facility. I just want to get this thing over with. I am a little anxious and impatient to the point of being testy - I apologized to Marian last night for being grumpy. She understood - after all she has lived with me for almost 38 years. Grumpy has reared his ugly head before. I'm trying to get everything taken care of at home; bills and my chore list and I am trying to get a leg up on the business quarter at work - that has proven to be more difficult. In a way I feel I deserve five days in bed on drugs whatever the reason.

My friends, family and co-workers have been great and supportive. It's nice to know a lot of people care and are willing to share the load. I've been off any medication for nine days now including ibuprofen. There have been a couple times I could have used a handful. Marian brought home a new fuzzy robe for me to take to the hospital. I guess she thinks no one wants to see the back of my open gown - and I agree with her. Keegan said, "I didn't think you were a robe sort of guy Dad." I'm really not but I will wear one to protect the innocent. I'm not looking forward to spending Easter in the hospital. No ham nor fun family get together for me. I'm sure Marian will bring me a baggy full of malt balls as those are my favorite Easter candy. Sigh...

I'll write again on the backside of the surgery. I may have to dictate to Marian. Wish me luck.

Pioneers! O Pioneers!

Eight days away from surgery, at ten days out no more ibuprofen or blood thinning agents. I can take Tylenol. I’m not a real pill person so that doesn’t affect me too much. I made the mistake the other day of watching the surgery I am getting on You-Tube; UGH! It looked like something from shop class; saws, hammers, chisels, pins, glue…Oh My! No wonder they say it is painful. Despite the fact that I will be knocked out my bones will have some latent memory of the trauma. At this point I just want to get it done and quit processing it.

Many of you have expressed kind words of encouragement –I thank you for that. I didn’t realize I will have a nine-inch scar running down both my kneecaps. I hope they sew me up tight as I know I have to do a lot of bending in therapy and I don’t want my knee popping out of the slot! I want to thank all the knee surgery pioneers and guinea pigs that have gone before me to perfect this procedure. I hope they have perfected it by the time I lay on the operating table. 

Speaking of pioneers, I am confident there were many pioneers that walked hundreds of miles across the plains and over the Rockies on bad knees. They kept walking and plugging along and simply worked through the pain heading toward a better life. There was no knee-replacement surgery back then. There’s a lot of worthy soldiers that have lost their legs in the line of duty to preserve our freedom that would take my legs - bad knees and all. I’m simply a little anxious about all this and tend to tell myself the worst stories. 

I was telling Marian last night how much I will miss her – five days in the hospital, eight days in a rehab facility for PT. I know she will be a faithful visitor but I don’t expect her to sit by my bedside 24/7. I am not looking forward to down-time in a hospital bed. Hopefully I will be able to read or work on my book; of course that all depends on my lucidity on pain medication. Sometimes I think I am being a baby about all this and I apologize. I will have a better perspective when I get on the other side of the surgery and start feeling positive results. I promise to sing praises as equally as I have whined. I’ll shut up now and count my blessings for modern medicine, insurance, and supportive friends and family.

 Talk to you soon.

Oh Pleeease the Kneees!

I’m getting a double knee replacement surgery on March 28^th. I thought I would blog about my journey and my feelings going into this and coming out of it to perhaps help any of you out there that are considering the same procedure.  I will try and be honest and I apologize in advance for my bad humor which I am sure will be evident. Wish me luck (with the surgery not the writing).

“You’re getting old and things just start falling apart.” That was what my Doctor and friend Kirt Kimball told me about five years ago when I went to him about the pain in my right knee. Not what I wanted to hear. I began wondering what else on my body was falling apart.

It’s amazing what they can do these days by simply poking a couple of holes in your knee. Arthroscopic surgery has put a lot of cutters out of work. No longer are the days of the six inch scar down the center of your knee-cap; just a couple red spots that appear like fang marks from a wide-mouthed rattlesnake. Out-patient surgery in the morning and I was good enough of walk out of the hospital by lunch as soon as the anesthesia wore off.  Kirt later told me in a follow-up visit that he didn’t know how I even walked on that knee. It appeared my cartilage had been crushed like the traditional glass stomped on by a Jewish groom at the end of a wedding ceremony –Mazel-tov!  My knee did feel like it was full of glass pieces for about six months before I decided on the procedure.  You notice the ambiguous term we call a “Procedure”. I had a procedure. My wife is having a procedure. It allows us to intimate we are having something done by a doctor without having to make an admission. It’s much better than saying – I’m getting a colonoscopy or a nose job and have your friends look at you forming a visual.

It didn’t take too long after my procedure before I was walking normally and bending with confidence. Kneeling down on the repaired knee was a little tenuous but gradually that became bearable. The problem was that despite cleaning all the broken glass out of my knee I was also suffering from osteoarthritis. The surfaces of the knee joint were degenerating. Dr. Kimball did his best to smooth the surfaces out while he was in there but there was only so much he could do.

I was fine for a couple of years, but did favor the repaired knee. It was still difficult putting forward pressure on it while descending stairs; I am essentially bone-on-bone with the added bonus of no cartilage behind my kneecap. Ultimately I began to have the same symptoms in my left knee, the pain increased quickly and that broken glass in the knee feeling returned with vengeance. Last year I endured another arthroscopic procedure on my left knee. Unfortunately this time the pain did not seem to subside. The left knee never responded as well to the surgery. The pain from the osteoarthritis trumped the repair. So I just dealt with it.

Just “dealing with it” however deteriorated over the next year. Bending, kneeling and even walking without a limp became a chore. Repeated cortisone shots weren’t cutting it. The next step was to consider complete knee replacements. Work and other considerations delayed that decision for a while. To buy some time I opted for the Synvisc–One injection in each knee until I could work the surgery and the rehab period into my work schedule. For me, Synvisc-One was a bust. The shots were more painful than the quick prick cortisone shots as they had to pierce the synovial membrane. I could feel/hear the small pop when the large needle reached its target. I have a fairly high tolerance to pain but the shots still made me pucker. What exactly the Synvisc shot does and why is a mystery even to the doctors who administer it. It remained a mystery to me as it did absolutely nothing. At $1000 a knee I expected more and got nothing; no relief and no improvement- Oh well!

That was last fall - which brings us to today.

I am anxiously awaiting my DOUBLE knee replacement surgery on March 28^th.  At the recommendation of my friend and doctor, Kirt Kimball, I am having the ConforMIS personalized bi-compartmental knee implant. That’s fancy terminology for “Your knee is so screwed up and disintegrated we had to build you a new joint made from cobalt chromium molybdenum”.

The ConforMIS procedure is explained as follows:

iFit technology converts CT data into implants that are precisely sized and shaped to conform to the unique 3D structure of your joint.

iJig instrumentation uses the same data to create cutting and placement guides that help your surgeon determine the exact placement of your implant.  This reduces surgical time and minimizes the amount of bone cutting required.

S**t! did he say “bone cutting”?  iAm soooo not looking forward to this! And a JIG ? Are you kidding me? You‘ve got to cut my knee open, put a jig on the tip of my femur and tibia then cut the bones to receive my new bionic knee parts. Sheeesh! and Ouuuch!

So it seems everyone I talk to knows someone that has had a knee replacement. The stories are varied but mostly the talk was about how much the Physical Therapy (PT) hurt. “You will hate your therapist”, “They had to put me under a few weeks later to break up the scar tissue”, “You’re going to cry”, “You’re getting both knees done? OUCH”, “Having one knee done is like getting hit by a truck – having two done is having the truck back over you again”. Well thank you everyone for the encouragement.  I’m feeling a lot better now. Marian told me to quit researching and asking people about it. The comment that put me over the edge was (I apologize in advance for this) “You won’t be able to wipe your own butt!” I was really glad to hear that. C’mon, I didn’t need to know that. Of all the talk of pain, discomfort, PT in the Pit of Despair; what is bothering me most is this potty issue. Crap! (No pun intended) SIGH!

So I will work through all of these hurdles and look beyond the actual surgery and initial therapy to a better day sometime in May perhaps, when I can walk normally. The young punks I work with at Adobe said they are all chipping in to get me a Jazzy power chair – I don’t think so! If I have to use a walker they said they would supply the tennis balls to put on the end of the legs – I don’t think so! I feel so loved.

Needless to say I am a bit anxious. I’ve even wondered if I should get a will. HA! We tend to tell ourselves the worst stories. Honestly the pain on the back side of this surgery couldn’t be any worse than what I am feeling every day now. So I will soldier on. I promise to keep sharing – if anyone cares. I have decided what book I am going to read during the ordeal if I am lucid enough from pain killers – Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee.

Sticking With It

One of the things I tell salespeople during training is - If you get on the fence and crow like a rooster someone inevitably will throw a rock at you. So throw a rock if you feel inclined.

I've stuck with my New Years resolutions; at least for a month now. That's about 29 days more than any other year! So let me tell you...

I've written no less than an additional 73 pages in my book (almost 18,000 words). I'm still only 1/3 of the way to completion of the first draft but making progress rapidly. The story is starting to fill out and the characters are driving the plot. I've been reading a book that Marian gave me for Christmas titled "On Writing" by Stephen King; yes, THE Stephen King. I affectionately call him Steve. I'm always telling Marian, Steve said.." or "Last night Steve pointed out...". The book has been very helpful - Thank you Marian, and thank you Steve.

Anyway, Steve says... "When you let the characters drive the plot instead of the plot driving and confining the characters you'll have a better story." I proudly admit that my characters are driving the plot in my book. I know the basics of the story but I don't know how I'm going to get there yet. My characters keep telling me where it's going. I spent 3 hours the other night writing a scene about a battle between an Egyptian merchant ship, on which my characters are passengers, and some pirates in the Mediterranean Sea. Yes, Pirates! There were pirates then too. I did my research, which Steve says is critical. It turned out pretty good. COCKADOODLEDOOOOOO! First crow.

Marian and I embarked on a diet January 5th (like Marian needs to look better!) It has been helpful doing it together. It was a little difficult the other night watching Keegan eat Five Guys Burgers and Fries in front of us but we held firm. The scale said down 21 lbs. this morning even though I still look like Foghorn Leghorn. COCKADOODLEDOOOOOO! Second crow.

You can throw rocks now. NO more crowing.

I'm proud of myself for sticking with it. I am looking forward to a night off on my birthday. Is losing a total of 30 lbs. and writing 100 more pages possible by then? We'll see if I can Stick With It!.