I’ve been off the reservation for the last month or so due to getting a full knee replacement. I’m only 44 years old, but after a vehicle accident that caused me to require surgery on the meniscus, arthritis ran all kinds of crazy in my knee over the last year to the point that I had to get the whole thing replaced.
My doctor told me ahead of time, with a very solemn countenance and carefully timed speech, “I cannot…express…with words alone…just how painful this is going to be.”
I thought perhaps he might be overdoing it a little, but at least I knew I should go in with eyes wide open expecting a fight or some extended torture session. I’d say it was more of the latter. The first week and a half to two weeks was god-awful painful. The first two days were literal hell. It took longer than i liked to get me the right painkillers that would actually touch the pain I was experiencing. Morphine didn’t do it. Neither did Percocet. Dilaudid did the trick but only for about three hours, so I ended up on Dilaudid and Percocet, alternating them every three hours. By the time I went home I was able to just use Percocet.
And boy did I need it once in home physical therapy started a couple of days later. That stuff was torture. Of course, some of the exercises weren’t bad and didn’t really hurt, but holy crap, the one’s that hurt, were super freakin’ painful! You feel like a blade is sticking into your quad muscle and you think your knee is going to explode outward from all the pressure placed on it, especially when working at bending the knee further and further each session. The pain alone would wear me out, and I had to do the therapy exercises and push it three times a day.
For the first three weeks I didn’t even feel like thinking very much. I’ve binge watched so many old episodes of CSI and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, it’s ridiculous. The past week I finally felt up to sitting in front of the computer and getting back to work.
I knocked out about 8,000 words to finish a story for a Stitched Smile Anthology coming out the beginning of 2017 and I’ve managed to take care of some editing for both my upcoming novel LOW and my story in the Stitched Smile anthology Monsters vs. Zombies. On the recovery front, I’m doing great. I just finished in home therapy and had my first post-op doc appointment. I surpassed the baseline goals for range of motion and am walking pretty good. I was released to use a cane but will probably be able to ditch that in a couple of weeks, the doc said, based on how good I’m doing now. I’m getting ready to start outpatient therapy and get this leg strengthened enough to handle my job and hobbies again.
Anyway, I figured i should kick out a blog now that I’m back in the fast lane and let my fans and fellow authors know how much I appreciated all the likes and comments of encouragement on my Facebook update posts and also the messages that some of you wrote me as well to personally check in and see how I was doing. It meant a lot and I sincerely thank you all.
Now, in addition to the update, I thought I might throw in a couple of my poems. Hope you enjoy it.
MURDER ON THE BACK PORCH LAST NIGHT
The sticky silken threads,
Weaving, slowly interlacing,
The catacombic bed.
Each tensile chord,
Assassin rhythm plays,
Waits on the downbeat
To spin the chrysalis tomb,
Cocoon the poisoned prey.
Patiently, death lingers,
A coiled orb inconspicuous and grim,
While life, oblivious, draws near,
Trips the snare,
Then thrashes beneath the paralyzing blow.
A graceful violence,
So close, so cold,
Holds the beating heart firmly as it slows.
Turns, swirls and swaddles,
Binds the stillness,
Till the ebbing flow runs dry,
And there another withered shell lies.
WORLD AT END
How easily their hopes collapsed,
Brittle dreams crumbling beneath the weight of tragedy,
Three words from the head of Oncology.
In a moment the emerald sphere unhinged,
The heavens fled, the firmament erupted and bled
Grievous tears, drowning faith in its rolling dark depths,
The mystery more than he could accept.