In response to my Kiwi friend's request, here is my story from the start.
I'm actually very lucky when it comes to putting together stories like this. Whenever I take a picture, I use a piece of free software to change the title of the picture, based on the time digital stamp on it, and using the format of YYMMDDNNNN. For example, a picture with the of IMG7016.JPG, taken on Feb 4 2021, becomes 2102047016.jpg. I can return to that file at any time and know when it was taken, and even better, they sort into chronological order.
Day zero, Thursday Feb 4 - out of surgery. I recall feeling pretty cheerful, but that was probably the drugs.
My Assistant Coach was April, my wife's daughter. More about her vital part in the process as we go on. My wife Julie has difficulty walking, so a lot of the early "coaching" came from April.
Day 1, Friday Feb 5 - This was taken at home, the following day. It looks like I had a very makeshift "elevation", with both legs slung over the end of the couch.
At some point, I was off the couch and stumbling around. The one aspect that only became obvious much later was that April and I had been given a heap of instructions. April has her own life - work, child, study, etc, and couldn't be with us the whole time, so sometimes important information was not conveyed to us until her next visit. No harm done, just a little frustrating. For example, I didn't realize the importance of icing and elevation for several days. Meanwhile, my fuzzy brain was dealing with "how to wear and/or carry the nerve blocker pump".
Day 3, Sunday Feb 7 - With me jumping between "zombie" and "getting it right", my fuzzy brain came up with a breakthrough, totally unaware of the rig that was included in our "going home" package.