I came home with 10 days supply of painkillers (2 types) and
also an injection I had to perform myself into the stomach. This was an
anti-coagulant drug. One of the biggest concerns following an operation like
mine is getting embolisms, or blood clots, which can be serious and potentially
fatal. The injections were intended to reduce this risk. I also had to wear
anti-embolism socks (like flight socks) for 6 weeks after the operation. On top of that I was given an exercise
routine to do twice a day, which was designed to keep blood flowing through my
leg, as well as improve flexibility in the knee and build thigh muscles. I had
appointments for weekly visits to the hospital’s physiotherapy unit to monitor
my progress.
On a day to day basis I was frustrated with my slow
progress. When will the swelling go down, why can’t I bend my knee more, when can I do my exercises without being
in severe pain? But the reality was that I was improving quite rapidly. Within
days I could walk quite comfortably on my crutches, I could ride in the car for
short periods without too much trouble, and I could help the IPDG around the
house and relieve her from her unfamiliar role of being my carer.
By day 3 at home, I was able to accompany the IPDG when
taking Daisy for walks. Our first outing was to Fordbridge Park, which has a
good tarmac footpath that she can use her electric wheelchair on. Here I
managed to hobble on my crutches to the nearest bench, whilst I waited for the IPDG to finish the walk. It was only a hundred
yards there and back, but it was good to be outdoors and I felt a sense of
achievement. The following day I walked to the second bench, about double the
distance. My plan was to continue walking a little further every day. By the end of the week, I was able to walk to
the bench at Dumsey Meadow, which was about 200 yards each way across rough
ground.
My knee on bench at Dumsey Meadow (note dressing removed)
There were a couple of problems looming on the horizon.
Firstly I wasn’t sure what I should do when my 10 day supply of painkillers ran
out. I had become dependent on them, or
at least the reassurance of being able to take them at bedtime and get through
the night virtually pain-free. The other
problem looming was our annual two-week holiday in Scotland. We were due to go just
3 weeks after my operation and I wasn’t allowed to drive for 6 weeks. That
meant the IPDG would have to drive the whole way there and back.
A phone call to my GP solved the first concern. He
prescribed a 3 week supply of Cocodamol
which would follow on from the drugs given to me by the hospital. These
drugs would see me through the holiday in Scotland. As to getting there, we
only had one solution. We take so much stuff, including Daisy and electric
wheelchair, that the car was the only option. The IPDG insisted that she could
drive the whole 700 miles or so there and back on her own. Normally we would
share the driving, in fact I tend to do the lion’s share. I was also worried
about the journey on my own account. I could by now travel short distances in
the car without too many problems, but the journey to the North of Scotland
would take about 18 hours and I wasn’t sure I would cope.
The IPDG was determined that we should go, and when the day
came I loaded the car up and off we went. It was about midday on Friday. We
agreed that we would stop every hour so that I could stretch my legs for a few
minutes before continuing. So it was that we made slow and stately progress
northwards on the Motorway system, stopping regularly, sometimes for a snooze
when the IPDG needed to.
Welcome sight - Motorway Service Station
When the IPDG and I travel long distances in the car, we
have a tradition that the driver selects the in-car entertainment. When I’m
driving it is a good opportunity to get out my Status Quo and Creedence
Clearwater Revival tapes, but when the IPDG takes over we have story tapes.
Obviously on this trip it was story tapes all the way. I don’t get on very well
with them, as my attention wanders, and I miss vital parts of the story, so I
will then annoy the IPDG by asking questions such as Who’s that speaking? Who’s
been murdered? Is he the husband of so-and-so? As you can imagine this
sometimes drives the IPDG to distraction. I coped quite well for the first part
of the trip, as we had a CD of short stories by Jeffrey Archer, each one no
more than 20 minutes long, and I was able to follow what was going on quite
easily.
The driver did exceptionally well, and we were pulling up at
her sister Sharon’s house in Portmahomack about mid-morning on Saturday. Our
self-catering accommodation was just down the road, and Tony helped me unload
the car when we got there.
Portmahomack
It was the most sedentary fortnight I had ever spent in
Scotland. Normally I am playing golf every day, climbing hills and walking
Daisy on the beach. Not this year. I spent most of the time with my right leg
up, as prescribed by the doctor, although I did embark on a few walks,
following my plan to go a little further every day. By the end of the
fortnight, I was walking on just one crutch most of the time and able to walk
for about a mile, including along the very rough track at Tarbat Ness.
Tarbat Ness - and Daisy
My recovery continued apace, and within a week of arriving
home, I was walking without any aids. I also came off the paikillers completely. By the end of my four week programme of
physiotherapy, I was able to bend my knee 120 degrees, which delighted the
physios. In October I played golf for the first time since the operation, and
although I still walk with a slight limp, I often forget that I have a new knee
joint. I cannot praise the NHS enough for the professionalism they showed
throughout my time in their care, and one of my motivational factors is that I
am determined that all their hard work on me isn’t wasted.
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