So here I am, three days after total knee replacement surgery, surprised that I have relatively coherent thought and even more surprised that I fared as well as I did.

I’ll probably jump around on my observations a bit; I’ll be on some entertaining pain meds for a bit and — well — staying focused on any given thing isn’t my strong point at the moment. (Squirrel!)

I’m always surprised when my weight isn’t an issue, because I’ve lived the majority of my life where it has been, particularly in medical circumstances. If anyone at the hospital thought it was a concern, they didn’t say so, but in my experience, I’d find that unlikely. Any time weight was mentioned, it was me doing the mentioning; I did have an issue where my epidural for surgery didn’t wear off as quickly as expected and I couldn’t lift/feel/move my legs when the physical therapy folks came by. They asked me if lifting my legs had ever been an issue before surgery; I mentioned that yeah, in a way it had been since I used to weigh 371 pounds and mobility was definitely an issue.

SQUIRREL!

But otherwise? No. I got a very kind high five from a charge nurse when I brought it up; after all, I was (a) graduating to the next phase of my physical existence and (b) drugged, and therefore, I don’t recall why I mentioned it.

I was surprised when two women managed to move me around on a sheet. You know, pick me up and move me where they needed me. I know this is one of the more common skills in a medical setting, but I don’t recall anyone ever doing that before, and it felt extremely odd to be lifted. Even odder to not have them call in male assistance.

As for my recovery, I’ve also been surprised. Other than the snafu of the epidural, my pain rarely got over a 4 out of 10, I was in decent spirits (and happy to be alive), the staff at the hospital was great, and not only did the surgery go off without a hitch, but the surgeon used a new method of sealing my incision that’s only been in use for his office for a week. Half the patients got it; I was in the lucky half.

I head to physical therapy next — and this is where the physical and mental work begins. The physical is expected; I just didn’t think it would start before I arrived. My surgeon advised my husband that yes, bone spurs were blocking my range of motion in my right leg; I knew this. I could neither bend my knee to even a 90-degree angle (normal upright sitting posture) or flatten it. I also knew my knee was out of alignment as it progressively worsened over the years, but I didn’t realize it would require straightening my knee.

Sure, that makes sense, but my muscles and ligaments have compensated for years, and now comes not only the retraining of those groups but my own mental blocks regarding what I can and can’t do. I have not climbed or descended stairs normally in decades, just as an example.

In a lot of ways, though, I realize what I’m facing; I’ve been here, before, both with being my husband’s caretaker through two knee surgeries, as well as progressing from temporary wheelchair and cane to around 8K steps a day. That process took years; this one will be accelerated in comparison.

I’ve been both prepared and surprised by this short three days. I’m looking forward to what comes next — and the reassurance that when the left knee is replaced, it won’t be as complicated as the right one. It isn’t as deformed as the right one was.

One final note, I asked what the chances were of getting my removed knee parts as a paperweight set. That was a no-go, but I’m not sure I really wanted to see it, anyway.