If you're wondering why I haven't been posting for the last six weeks, it would seem that the hip bone is connected to the brain bone which powers the writing bones which trigger the finger bones to type.
I'm sure you're wondering precisely how this can be. It's not such a stretch, when you factor in a 9 inch incision, a big hunk of metal and plastic (as in a Zimmer Kinectic Total Hip), and a full set of stairs that laugh in the face of new body parts. Lindsey Wagner/Jaime Sommers may have been all new and bionc-y when she woke from her transformation, but I, alas, was not. The hip part wasn't really too bad, except for about a week of when the pain meds just seemed to stop working, in totality. We had about six really unpleasant nights (we being me and The Husband), but he stuck it out. Unfortunately sometimes really awesome career opportunities poke their heads up at really bad times, and I made him go on a trip to NYC to meet with his editors, etc. That left me alone for about four days with paid help to feed the Danes (and, bless her, 
sometimes she fed me, too). The entire hip thing wouldn't have been so bad had it not been for the bout of severe anemia. Let me tell ya-- I'd replace the other hip before I'd go through that again. It wiped me out, kept me in bed, and made me literally spiral into exhaustion just for trying to rearrange the pillows behind my back. To be blunt, it SUCKED. Between the hospital stay (and an emergency room x-ray to check the hip since the pain was so bad) and two weeks later, they pumped four units of blood into me and insisted I take an enormous iron pill (hey, hey -- 278% of your daily recommended allowance of iron!) every day for 30 days. Today, by the way, is the last one, and I thank everything possible for that because these things will really twist up your digestive system.
So that's my sad and sorry story. Am feeling better finally (yay!), although each physical therapy session (twice per week) wipes me out. This worries me as Monday sees me back at work with PT on my lunch hour twice per week. Okay, I admit I don't want to go back to work, but I really have no excuse. I mean, brain power isn't governed by leg and hip exercises, right? Bleh.
I'd still rather stay home and eat bon bons all day. Okay, and maybe write some cool stories and stuff. And yeah, maybe paint some cool stuff. After all, I do have this awesome and fully furnished art studio in the next room that's just crying out for me to create a something-- a painting, a drawing, ANYTHING. It has a few more things that need to be organized and put away, but oooooh, the temptation. The want.
But still, there's this thing I have to work out and get out this week for sure, no excuses, that might hopefully work its way into something much, much better.
So much to do, and so little me. How am I ever going to fit a full time job back into that??!
I'm sure you're wondering precisely how this can be. It's not such a stretch, when you factor in a 9 inch incision, a big hunk of metal and plastic (as in a Zimmer Kinectic Total Hip), and a full set of stairs that laugh in the face of new body parts. Lindsey Wagner/Jaime Sommers may have been all new and bionc-y when she woke from her transformation, but I, alas, was not. The hip part wasn't really too bad, except for about a week of when the pain meds just seemed to stop working, in totality. We had about six really unpleasant nights (we being me and The Husband), but he stuck it out. Unfortunately sometimes really awesome career opportunities poke their heads up at really bad times, and I made him go on a trip to NYC to meet with his editors, etc. That left me alone for about four days with paid help to feed the Danes (and, bless her, 
sometimes she fed me, too). The entire hip thing wouldn't have been so bad had it not been for the bout of severe anemia. Let me tell ya-- I'd replace the other hip before I'd go through that again. It wiped me out, kept me in bed, and made me literally spiral into exhaustion just for trying to rearrange the pillows behind my back. To be blunt, it SUCKED. Between the hospital stay (and an emergency room x-ray to check the hip since the pain was so bad) and two weeks later, they pumped four units of blood into me and insisted I take an enormous iron pill (hey, hey -- 278% of your daily recommended allowance of iron!) every day for 30 days. Today, by the way, is the last one, and I thank everything possible for that because these things will really twist up your digestive system.So that's my sad and sorry story. Am feeling better finally (yay!), although each physical therapy session (twice per week) wipes me out. This worries me as Monday sees me back at work with PT on my lunch hour twice per week. Okay, I admit I don't want to go back to work, but I really have no excuse. I mean, brain power isn't governed by leg and hip exercises, right? Bleh.
I'd still rather stay home and eat bon bons all day. Okay, and maybe write some cool stories and stuff. And yeah, maybe paint some cool stuff. After all, I do have this awesome and fully furnished art studio in the next room that's just crying out for me to create a something-- a painting, a drawing, ANYTHING. It has a few more things that need to be organized and put away, but oooooh, the temptation. The want.
But still, there's this thing I have to work out and get out this week for sure, no excuses, that might hopefully work its way into something much, much better.
So much to do, and so little me. How am I ever going to fit a full time job back into that??!
