I haven’t written in a long time. The pinball machine that is my brain has been on “TILT,” and no amount of tinkering could get it back to firing those little silver thought balls.
But this morning, I had a “Just Do It” moment and thought I’d try to make some sense of the stockpiles of little silver balls. In all probability, there will be balls all over the floor…
Ultimately, this is a story about love. Not the mushy hearts and flowers kind but the deep, down and dirty kind of love that requires work. Love in action.
Almost 4 weeks ago, Dave had knee replacement surgery on his left knee. This surgery is common among people of a certain age since our joints tend to wear out faster than other parts ( though, I’m pretty sure my face and other things are wearing out just as fast as my knees). He definitely needed the surgery on this knee as he was to the point where each step caused pain.
I won’t rehash the surgery but instead will focus on the aftermath. The good news is that at four weeks post-op, Dave is finally able to fix his own breakfast and take short walks outside alone.
The first two weeks required a lot of nursing on my part. In addition to that, there are the daily jobs he did around the house, the dog walking ( one at a time), the grocery store and drug store runs ( if you’re a long time reader, you know I hate going to stores), the daily chores.
I’ve stated many times that I’m a much better drill sergeant than I am a nurse, and after the first two weeks of intensive care at home, the drill sergeant is finally getting her time in the limelight. His fulltime job right now is rehabbing this new knee. That requires physical therapy three times a week and daily exercises at home. Along with the daily chores, it’s my job to make sure he gets where he is going ( he isn’t driving yet) and does his at rehab work at home. Love in action.
Living in a motorhome during this time has been a little challenging. We have one bedroom and no hiding space. New knee Dave hasn’t been sleeping well, and when one person is up, then everyone is up. The dogs are conditioned to think that a person getting out of bed means “Breakfast! Poop time! Play!”. I’m conditioned to think getting out of bed means “Coffee! And don’t talk to me until I’ve had it”. The dogs are confused, and I’m caffeine-deprived, but I keep repeating to myself “in sickness and in health” ( sometimes followed by “dammit!”). Love in action.
Each day now brings a little bit more healing for him and a little bit more alone time for me, the classic introvert. I can see “normal life” at the end of the tunnel, and we are both looking forward to getting there. He has been a good patient and is loving and grateful for the help. Love in action.
A bright spot in the last month has been the wonderful friends we’ve made here in Las Vegas. We have friends that walk Dallas in the evening so I don’t have to, friends that have helped do things that needed to be done on our property, friends that have brought meals, and friends that just check-in to let us know they care and are there to help if needed. Love in action.
I think of the people who are going through a difficult time or illness and the caregivers who are there daily. Our little saga is nothing compared to some, and I send silent blessings and prayers to those who can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. I hope there is love in action for all. I hope there are friends to take some of the burden and a bright spot of light in each day for them.
If you managed to wade through this ramble without tripping on the little silver balls all over the floor ( or in other words thinking “wtf is she rambling on about?”), thank you.
That’s love in action too.
Stay tuned …
Ah, I can relate to those restless nights and having no place to hide. This too shall pass! 😊
It’s only at times like this that the coach feels small. I’m thankful that there is an end in sight. 🙂