My Trusty Steed and His Friends

55°f this morning,  a perfect Fall day.

I am still here, although I wouldn't say I am kicking up my heels yet!

Here is my new best friend:

He is stable, dependable, and always there for me. What more could I ask?

Here are some of his cohorts:

First, Mr. Ice Machine. This thing is pretty cool, literally. You put water and ice in it, and it pumps water through a big tube to a knee wrap, so my knee is constantly being iced.

The blue thing is the ice pack thingie. The ones with the battery pack and number display are automatic compression devices. No need to wrestle into compression socks! I well remember trying to get those tight elastic stocking over Larry's feet and up over his knee. It was truly terrible. My red socks are from the hospital and are anti-slip, necessary on these wood and stone floors.

This little stool, which i bought to re-do, has been a godsend. It slides easily on our floors, so I lift my foot on my bad leg onto it, and then up onto the couch (which has turned out to be the best place for me to sleep and pretty much live). It's not pretty but it's great for what I need.

This is a long shoehorn. I have had it a while, and I am not using it right now as intended. Rather, I use it as a hook to pull things closer when needed.

And this weird thing is a sock assist! I don't think I need it but the hospital gave it to me. You slide the sock over the "fingers", which creates a hole to slide your foot into. Then you pull on those white straps, and just keep pulling until the sock is on, and you have pulled the assist completely out of the sock. I have little trouble getting my socks on, though, so don't need this.

And one of my "nurses", Larry. Sarah is the other and has been a huge help. I don't know how this would have gone without Sarah, honestly.

Here is my view this week, or some of it anyway. The house is a bit discombobulated but to be expected.

This is pretty day I have missed out on. Maybe tomorrow I will venture out to the porch. I have done a lot of walking around the house, and of course trying to do the exercises I need to do. Unfortunately PT doesn't start until Wednesday.  I would much prefer to start Monday, as the sooner the better for knee replacement.

I don't have photos of my toilet booster seat! I didn't think I would need one but boy was I wrong. And then, my first night home! I had to pee every 45 minutes! It was a terrible night, I can tell you. Larry picked that night (and the next) to get good and drunk. I can't even tell you how upset I was.  (More about that later.) He would not come when I called him, and was pretty darn nasty about it to boot. Dear Sarah dealt with him as best she could, and I kicked him out of our bedroom, where I was trying to sleep on our bed. The bed was just too high, so in the middle of the night I somehow pushed the 4" memory foam pad off the bed and rearranged the covers and pillows so I could sleep at the foot instead of the head of the bed. I did not want to wake Sarah to help, as she had had a heck of a day already, but it was rough, being the day after surgery. Still, gotta do what we gotta do. So, that was quite a night what with making gazillion trips to the bathroom 

Next day, Sarah, bless her, went to town and bought me some Depends. I don't know when anything has made me so happy! And I never thought I would have to wear those things, but again, this falls into the gotta do category. Apparently this frequent, urgent urination is a side effect of the pain medication for some people, and unfortunately I am one of those unlucky souls. Ah me, this too shall pass.

As for Larry, yes, I was and still am angry and upset with him. I do believe that he was feeling like he would not be able to do a good job with me, and it is a fact that in the past he has been a terrible nurse. The drinking might have been a way to escape his feelings about that, but I am no psychologist. Last evening Sarah and our son Derek removed every bit of alcohol from the house, and hid the car keys so he could not go out to buy more. He is angry about that, but after searching every cabinet in the house, realized there was no more. He fell twice during his spree, once in the shower and once outside, and today he is hurting from that.

Now, I like my glass of wine in the evening, and when we go out for dinner. It is a treat, you know? But I am happy to give it up if he will finally try to stop drinking. It started out slow-- we would but a bottle of wine on the weekends. Then I caught him hiding beer. This was almost 30 years ago, and it has gotten worse over time, although he has often cut way back and it was okay. But it is not okay any more. How we will get him to quit, I don't know, but quit he must. Keep us in your prayers/thoughts/ whatever you can that we can find a way through this. I love the man, but I hate this.