Valentine’s Day aka “Thank you my love”
Love it or loathe it, having someone to spoil, or to spoil you, is a delightful thing. However, when you’re pretty much housebound, otherwise completely reliant on someone else to get you here, there and everywhere, it can pretty much take the mystery out the romance. “Hey, my love… can you just drive me to the shops so I can get food/a card/pressie for you…?”. Hardly gushing passion, is it! Except, that IS what I did. Kind of.
With a great big thanks to my wonderful Mother who did my shopping, to Marks & Spencer’s for their easy-peasy-throw-it-in-the-oven DELICIOUS Valentines meal… and being very appreciative that we live in the era of online greeting cards with delivery, I actually pulled together a decent little surprise for Himself. Even if he knew something was afoot days before; with the half hour whispered phone call from my Mother taken in the other room… and then the big bag in the fridge that said “DO NOT OPEN – XANDRA’S SECRET BUSINESS”. Sly.
But realising I’d forgotten a few key elements to my surprise, I had to convince Himself that if he drove to the supermarket and stayed in the car, that I’d be fine going in by myself to get the ‘bacon’. That we needed for ‘breakfast’. That it would be like a test for me “…okay?”. The gig was definitely up.
Another big milestone in the week; finishing my anticoagulant tablets. So no more worrying about bleeding to death in the kitchen, being the clumsy person I am and routinely cutting myself on what seems like a weekly basis. But also, I can have a glass of tipple… another bit of normality retuning to my life, a little treat now and then. Now, it isn’t exactly prohibited to drink while taking the anticoagulant, more frowned upon – which is exactly what happened when I asked the nurse whether at 2 weeks post-op, after my first hip replacement, being Christmas Day, surely one glass of Champagne wouldn’t hurt. The look I got made me feel like I was asking my parents for my first try of alcohol. “So that’s a no…?”.
At the Valentine’s dinner table, my biggest problem however, was after a few sips of Prosecco (thanks again, M&S!), it went straight to my head! I became the cheapest date ever – which was fine, I was paying after all. The worst part was, as I got up to clear the plates after our starter, I realised I was more unsteady on my feet than I had been for weeks. THAT’S why you don’t drink post-op! I was DUI… on crutches… with 2 more courses to go.
All in all though, it was a success.
Decided to hang on to my bib, even on this occasion. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing sexy about dinner down your cleavage, even compared to this look:
Swapping the booze for water helped my unsteadiness, but after it all, I was shattered. The food was thoroughly enjoyed by Himself… which was the point, so mission accomplished. And not just because it was Valentine’s Day, but because after all the running around he’s done for me over the last month, I wanted him to know how much I appreciated it… and to spoil him a little bit for the first time in weeks.
Climb Every Mountain…
Faced my Everest this week… the stairs… WITHOUT MY CRUTCHES. If someone could have heard me they would have thought I was bonkers. I was having conversations with my muscles as I climbed… “3 more steps, clench, squeeeeeeeze, c’mon…”. Himself has been so worried about me negotiating them when he isn’t around, that I was half expecting to wake up one day and find a stairgate blocking my path.
My biggest hike is still ahead of me though. Years of surgery and recovery has led to a lot of muscle atrophy. I mean, I had skinny-sparrow-legs before, but now they also have a hint of bingo-wing about them.
I’d actually be happy if my legs looked like that!
I feel the weakness – pulling your groin when sneezing for instance, is a big sign of how messed up things are down there! So I know the hard work that is before me. The 6 weeks restriction-lift is close now. But I’m ready for it… attitude is half the battle.
How’s it healing?
5 weeks post-op, massaging each day.