Two weeks post-op and my second bad night. I guess that’s pretty good. The worst part of my day is taking off my compression stockings without violating my precautions.
The wound is tender and wants the staples out. The obligatory walks are not much fun, and invariably (so far) the night after I walk, I have painful muscle spasms. I would like to get off Percocet because it upsets my stomach, but muscle spasms at night make that difficult, and I cannot take NSAIDS. Yesterday was awful probably because I forgot to take any pain meds so by night, I was hurting.
Four more weeks until I see the surgeon again and get the “all clear” to return to my normal life and physical positions. I’ve given up the idea that I’m going to bring home the dogs any time soon, but I would if I could find someone who wants a job walking them.
I know from life in general, and my previous hip surgery in particular, that there are ups and downs with this and that patience is, itself, a doctor. It’s amazing to think that just two weeks ago RIGHT NOW (!) I was joking with the OR nurse about maybe drawing a target on my hip. Not long afterward, some guy was rooting around in my left hip joint, cutting off bad bone and replacing it with metal and plastic. It’s bizarre and freaky, but it really happened.