TKR So Who's Anu'sKnees?

[Celle]

I saw the therapist I used for TKR #1. I knew she would ask me to do something that would eventually cause pain, but I did it anyway.

You call the shots when it comes to PT. Don't be persuaded into doing anything that hurts.
They are your knees and you are the only one who has the right to say what will happen to them.
Saying no to therapy - am I allowed to?

In any case, whether you pay directly or through your insurance, you are paying the PTs. You are their employer and they have to listen to what you say, not the other way around. You don't have to please your therapist. He/she has to please you.

PT that hurts your knees is bad PT and no PT at all is better than bad PT.

So, speak up, in order to protect your knees.

 

[Anu'sNees]

Chapter VI: "I Never Had Back Problems Until . . . "

I was maybe three weeks into PT when I encountered a new problem: my back gave out. I was bending over to clean up some doggie doo when I felt a ring of pain around my middle. When I tried to stand back up, I couldn't. I was stuck, bent in half, and all I could think of was my left knee: "What's going to happen to my knee? If I can't stand up, I will never get the flexion and extension I need." Now mind you, I was bent over in half, unable to lift up my upper body, unable to walk or sit or stand, and I was worried about my precious knee! The only action I could take was to lie very carefully on my bed until I could stretch my body fairly straight. I was like this for days with no light in a tunnel to be found. The thought came to me to change my physical therapy agenda to accommodate this new problem, but it wasn't easy to arrange this. My OS could not write a script for the back and my GP wasn't sure I knew what I was talking about. Still, a few days later, yet surviving as an invalid, my PT was given the go ahead to work on my back; the knee would have to be put on the back burner.

So what was this pain like? In the early days, when I was swaying like a broken tree, the pain encircled my body at my waist. That was the pain that kept me hugging the floor. As things progressed there was additional pain in my right lower back and buttock. Sciatica, perhaps? Eventually the pain travelled to the left side as well. Because I had never experienced my back going out, and because the event was so close to my surgery, I casually attributed the pain to my TKR. But hindsight, maybe it was due to the pressure my PT put on my buttocks when he was avidly stretching my knee. Since I can't say this for sure, ethics demands I throw this hypothesis out the window, leaving me with my astute conclusion: I didn't really know, but . . . I had some hypotheses.

Maybe my back went out due to walking with my walker. Or maybe I was bent over due to mishandling my cane. Could the problem be caused by changes in my back due to the repositioning and reshaping of (now) both knees? Could I be in pain because I wobbled to the left and right when I didn't use a walker or a cane? Perhaps, but I wanted to know if anyone else connected the back problem to their TKR. (Before you suggest it, I DID check the BS forum and discovered that one of the BS staff thought the back pain might be due to core back problems, but that is too complex to discuss here!)

Surfing the web, looking for links between back pain and TKR's, I did find some posts written by TKR patients. One poster said he had tried physical therapy and exercises for his back to no avail. His pain was "excruciating" at times. Another poster merely posed the question: "Are the spasms and pain due to the TKR?" Another victim, so-to-speak, was more scientific about this: "It took years to deteriorate (his knees), years for misalignment to develop," he wrote. "Now your body needed time to adjust and let go of the connected pain," or so he thought. Sounds possible to me.

Another postulator suggested that Pilates would cure any back pain that developed. He didn't explain his theory. Another attributed his back pain to problems he had years ago, so maybe the TKR wasn't a cause after all. One last poster went to great lengths to try and rid himself of the new back pain: He did PT, massage therapy, chiropractic adjustments, heel lifts, pain meds, muscle relaxants, and even a steroid injection! His conclusion was that lying on his back on a hard floor was the only successful treatment for the pain. I don't think he thought the floor would cure it, however. In fact, no one I found online thought there was a cure for the back pain. Most simply wanted some pain relief. Me too!

Of interest to me, I could not find one scholarly article linking back pain to TKR's. Perhaps the scientific community doesn't care if we have back pain with our TKR's. Or maybe they look at the situation as a given: mess with the knee and you get nothing but problems. As for me, I do think there is a correlation, but time is ticking and I don't have the time or space to get to them now. Honestly, I think some of our posters were closer to the truth than they thought, but maybe I will deal with that later?

The real question is, "What do you think, TKR'ers?"

 

[Jamie]

But hindsight, maybe it was due to the pressure my PT put on my buttocks when he was avidly stretching my knee.

I can't say what is causing your back pain, but I can say that this is a very bad idea. No one should be pushing or pulling on your knee. You should be fully in control of all your bending and stretching exercises and do them only to the point of mild discomfort....no pain.

Following a knee or hip replacement it's quite common to get a variety of aches and pains as your body readjusts to it's new alignment. Also it's possible that you are not walking and standing properly, maybe favoring your new knee and that can put strain on back and core muscles. But do treat whatever pain you get. If not with prescription pain meds then at least with a 1000mg dose of Tylenol every 6 hours until the pain is gone. It does you no good to hurt when you're trying to recover.

 

[Anu'sNees]

You know, Jamie. I was flat on my stomach when the PT pressed on my buttocks and pulled my knee. What was he hoping to accomplish, I have no idea. My problem here is that I really liked my physical therapists. And most of the time they behaved themselves. It was those few times that they go out of bounds that I suffered painful consequences in the present and the future. I didn't say anything to him, but I told my husband what happened, and then tried to tie his actions to my back problems. I do agree with all the points you make in your response as to the cause of the back pain. I will never know for sure all that contributed to my ongoing problems, but maybe there will come a day when my back feels better.

My current meds do not touch the back pain. Moreover, I don't even know if I can take Tylenol with the drugs I take-morphine and dilaudid. Do you happen to know if I can take Tylenol, or do I call my doctor to find out?

 

[Anu'sNees]

"Ungraceful or Ungrateful? Is There a Point Here?"

Today I thought my physical therapist called me “ungraceful,” and boy was I shocked! Sure, my hug-me-tight spandex capris (pulled out of the dirty laundry at the last moment) have never been on a “Best Dressed List,” but was that any reason to pick on me? This totally unkind and unwarranted criticism occurred when I was moving at a leisurely pace across the main room, bell weights dangling from both hands, and a head of hair “gracefully” flying in the breeze. (Could she see the markings written across the back of my head, “Wash Me Now;” you know, like the messages drawn on dusty, dirty car windows? Well, I thought I had washed that out, but come to think of it, I couldn’t recall when I last turned the luke-warm shower on my head, but that really isn’t the topic of this post.) Anyway, I’m sure she wouldn’t think me ungraceful for wearing a days-old-do. So when I showed my PT my most uppity, stuffy pose of indignation, she corrected me: “I didn’t say “ungraceful, sweetie.” “UNGRATEFUL! UNGRATEFUL! UNGRATEFUL! Got that?”

Well, what did I care, “ungraceful,” “ungrateful;” neither of them were true. Without looking further into the puzzling accusation, I quickly gathered my torn Walmart mini-backpack (my version of a Coach handbag), and my cane and strutted (er, wobbled) out the door as if I were wearing a pink, sparkly tutu and a flashy tiara. So there, I told myself. Did I put her in her place or what?

Once at home, once I had visited the trough and the spigot (someone on this forum likes the word spigot, though I can’t remember who), I sat my wounded knee down on the bed, stretched out, and proceeded to ponder my PT’s point that I was “ungrateful.” What did she really mean by that? It must not have bothered me that much as I fell asleep in an instant.

Upon waking, duty called. I must shine a light on my PT’s assertion that I was ungraceful, er, ungrateful! My first thought was “ungrateful,” ME? I could at least pay a visit to Dr. Webster and try to unravel this mystery. One definition of ungrateful, I discovered, is a no-brainer: not grateful. And I needed Dr. Webster for that? I read further. “Ungrateful” as in showing no gratitude, an ungrateful child. Child? Well that got my dander up! How is it that I might remind her of an ungrateful child? After all, I tell her “thank you” after every exercise, even if my pain level is a 20 on a scale from 1-10.

Hmm. Ungrateful child. Since my PT may agree with Dr. Webster and think of me as an ungrateful child, I checked out the meaning of “ungrateful” in the kids dictionary. (Can you believe it? A different dictionary for kids? Maybe that’s why adults and kids can’t communicate. Words don’t mean the same thing for youngsters and oldsters!) The kids’ dictionary claimed that “ungrateful” means ungrateful for favors and gifts. Now I was really stumped. When did she do me any favors or give me any gifts? “Well, what about those great massages,” a quiet voice proposed. Does that count as a favor or a gift”?

That single thought about massages let loose a stream of thoughts about my TKR. Lately, I have been having some rough days of pain that is 5-6 on the scale, but feels like a 10. “Help, save me from this unwarranted torture,” was my modus operandi. And wasn’t I sick and tired of walking with a wobble on my cane. Why should I have to suffer for the benefit of a new knee? And then I thought about my 2 sort-of-sweet dachshunds who run to the door when I arrive and invariably jump up on my battered knee to show their love, only to get yelled at by me. Why must I growl at them for their demonstration of loyalty? Couldn’t I be supportive of their show of affection? Next came to mind my taking-for-granted all the help I still get from my spouse, even though I am 7 or 8 weeks out from surgery? I could say thank you once-in-a-while instead of groaning about my pain or missed sleep!

Or what about those boxes of shoes? Of course my hubby doesn’t believe me when I say they are for recovery, but he hasn’t dared open his mouth to ask about them for fear of upsetting my day. (Wait ‘till I have my UNAH fashion show! Will he maintain his silence then?) And then there is my OS. OK, he only gave me pain pills to last the next week when I know I am going to be hurting long after that. But the more I read about opiate control, I realize he could have just said “No. Use something over the counter.” That’s what I hear from many who need pain support from their doctors, but are told, “Sorry.” How about a little gratitude, even if I didn’t get exactly what I wanted. And that anger with my postman (yeah, he is really a man!)? He lost yet another pack of books I ordered (on finding peace in difficult situations!) So what the postman failed me; good ol’ Amazon.com came through and has already sent a replacement package that should arrive before I am in the mood to read about peace and joy. Couldn’t I be just a bit positive about that?

Well, if you read this far you get my point, (maybe). As so many say here on the BS forum, having a TKR is like running a marathon; it goes on and on and on. Before we know it, we are grumpy, impatient, perhaps ungraceful, but surely at times ungrateful. And maybe, just maybe, we grate on others who are trying to be patient themselves as this marathon drags on seemingly without end. As for me, I am going to try a different approach to things in my life. (Notice the word try.) Perhaps I can try to be a bit more thankful for the areas of my life (MY KNEE) that I constantly find fault with. Then maybe I won’t even need to read about how to find peace and joy in my life, as it will appear out of nowhere when I mumble a word of thanks here and there, now and then!

(Un)grateful today; what’s on tap for tomorrow?

 

[sandi4213]

I believe that gratitude is as important a part of my life as breathing. I get frustrated and grumble sometimes, but the gratitude is a lot bigger part of my life than they are. I am so grateful for my family for the great care and concern they have demonstrated for me. I am grateful for my OS that did a great job on my knee and was honest about the long recovery. I am grateful that I had my TKR now, when the procedure is so much better than it was years ago when I first considered it. And finally I am grateful for all the wonderful people on BoneSmart that have educated me, supported me, made me laugh when I wanted to cry, and are always there for me.

 

[Anu'sNees]

Good for you, sandi4213. I believe every word you wrote. Especially the part about gratitude is as important as breathing! And being grateful for family when the time of dependence is so long is so important. Just yesterday I realized I was no longer offering a polite thank you when my spouse made breakfast for me. It seemed redundant since I say it every time I indulge. And how often to I wear a smile at home? Not much. As for your post, I love your devotion to the Bonesmart people. You do know where your blessings lie! After having to work with a few sentences from many angry people about their "failed" TKR (the online community I spoke of in another post), I wanted to yell, your knee doesn't have to be perfect to be grateful. I know my RTKR isn't perfect, will never be perfect, will always hurt some when I am sitting. But it's so much better than before surgery. I need to be thankful for that like you said, sandi4213. You are a girl after my own heart!

 

[Anu'sNees]

"Woe is Me (or not)"
I’m sitting at my computer desk, tears in my eyes, thinking about what I wrote yesterday about feeling grateful while I endure one of the most painful surgical recoveries there is. After yesterday’s physical therapy session, I am in considerable pain, and it’s not something I can understand. We (my PT and me) worked together on helping me get a more stable gait, trying to find a way around my scoliosis and kyphosis that seems to be making balance more difficult than during my RTKR recovery just about a year ago. My therapist laughed yesterday, and yes, she really did make fun of my lack of grace as I wobbled across the room with weights designed to balance out my imbalances. And we laughed even harder as I lay on a large mat trying to practice turning over side-to-side, all-the-while trying to hold up my Walmart hug-me-tights (the friction of the mat kept pulling them down despite their hug-me-tight promise!). I can’t recall ever doing anything that actually brought pain to my left knee or leg at PT, but here I was today almost in tears because my leg hurt so much. (Yeah, I do cry a lot about this knee recovery business; partly out of pain, and partly due to my poor-me attitude.)

And this is where I get confused about PT. I came home and raved to my husband about how great PT was in helping me use a more stead gait, and how learning to turn my body over on my bed would be so helpful, but here I was today hurting more than yesterday, and I just can’t blame this on PT (can I?). Yet I did nothing else yesterday that would increase my pain today. So maybe, the PT and the pain look related, but are not. (Sounds like a topic for another day.)

So I am still here at my desk trying to ignore my tears that fall not because of my TKR, but because of other things that do not stop insinuating themselves into my life just because I had a TKR. And I am wondering if I can keep up that grateful pose I spoke of yesterday.

You see, my disabled husband has been in so much bone pain for reasons we don’t yet understand that I feel guilty asking him to do anything for me, like warming up my lunch, which I could do of course, but isn’t it nice that I can still get sympathy for my knee which is not responding to meds right now? We are looking into the cause of his life-stopping pain, but in the mean-time have to rely upon OTC meds because doctors have been told to beware of those elderly patients who are dying to become opiate addicts. And tears are still falling as I put down the phone and deaden the link to my only relative in town—my youngest daughter—who has just told me that her husband will likely take a job with the police department that is located close to two hours from here, (They will move, of course.) and all I can think about is my 8-year-old car with 150,000+ miles and how it won’t make another trip out of town unless it is pulled apart and put back together with new parts. How will I ever see this daughter again, I catastrophize? And my sadness gene pulls out ahead of my pain gene as I struggle to deal with my TKR and thoughts of losing my daughter.

As my knee strikes up an urgent conversation with me to remind me that it needs some TLC, the phone rings with news that my oldest daughter is in a Salt Lake City hospital with an IV in her arm, failing from vomiting over the past three or four days. Her head and stomach scans have yet to be read. But surely I wouldn’t make it from my apartment in Tucson to her place in Salt Lake with this hurting knee even if I had the money, and I think to myself, is the joke on me that I proposed to myself I would make a turn towards gratefulness? (Are the Gods just against me, or are you too fighting that "woe is me" battle as you rest your wounded knee?)

And then I remind myself that everyone in the world, including those in the BS forum, are dealing with crises and emergencies and every-day struggles just like I am, and must step up to the plate, grateful or not. But I tell myself I don’t want to go back to complaining “woe is me,” every time a shoe drops, but my faith waxes and wanes just like my Walmart spandex capris. One moment my faith stretches to give me comfort; other times it contracts, strangling my breath as I try to hold myself together. And my knee is yelling at me: PLEASE LIE DOWN AND ICE ME! And I know that is what I must do—what I can do—to manage some control of my out-of-control life. So while today’s topic on “Woe is Me” has unexpectedly exhausted itself, I will try to do better tomorrow and feel more grateful for what I can’t control. And better manage what I can control, like elevating and icing my knee. Amen!

 

[Pumpkin]

Anu'sNees,
Your PT worked you too hard, knees sometimes are just fine during an activity only to flare up later. Best you slow down with the PT, and exercises.
I hope everything with your daughter settles down soon. You are right, just because we had a major surgery, life goes on.

 

[KarriB]

I agree with Pumpkln, we see many here in pain the day after or the night of PT. Everything feels fine at the time, but your soft tissue is angry over the unknown and extra activity. Try to keep your leg elevated and iced as much as possible for now.

It's also normal to feel down and let things bother you more than normal. During my recovery my bff drove me in my 11 yr old car (it hadn't been out of the garage for 2-3 months) to one of my many dr appts and it was so cold that the cable to the fuel door broke while trying to put gas in the car. I reacted as if the WW III had just begun. We still talk about it, but it wasn't humorous and I feel bad to this day. You'll deal with all these issues in your normal manner in a month or two. I hope we hear good news about your daughter.

 

[Anu'sNees]

Pumpkin,
Thank you for writing back. I think the good news is that my PT is over tomorrow. I have mixed feelings about that. While I hate, absolutely hate that PT can cause new problems and fail to address old problems, I have loved my physical therapists. I will be sorry not to spend more time with them. I even bought gift certs for them, all-the-while knowing that more than a few of their practices ended up with me more in pain, and probably not gaining any flexion or extension. So my departure tomorrow will be a mixed bag. But thank you for reminding me that we can seem to be just fine after therapy, and then go downhill as the tissues are bothered or even damaged. And thank you for the well wishes for my daughter. It is difficult to face challenges while recovering from this surgery. And we are kind of helpless since physical help is out of the question.

 

[Anu'sNees]

KarriB,
Isn't it the truth that WWII seems to break out over and over during the year of TKR recovery? Anything to do with a car, such a vital material item in our lives when we are so needy, opens the gates of catastrophizing unless you or your close ones are mechanics. Kind of a good thing is that we can look back once things are fixed and find a bit of humor in the situation. Of course, I have yet to discover that humor, but time will pass and I will have figured out how I need to respond to my older daughter's need and my younger daughter's move. Thank you for your nice note back. I really appreciate your sharing.

 

[Anu'sNees]

Chapter VI: "Humbled by all You Type A Healers"

Once I began to read stories posted on the Bonesmart Forum (knees or hips), my biggest surprise was that people who had recently had their TKR were right back in the middle of their lives. Some posters were buying RV’s with plans for some grand tours of the U.S.; others were buying cars, making plans for vacations in the near future, having and attending weddings and parties, hiking, and dare I say, cleaning their homes and washing their hair! I wasn’t just surprised by this news; I was shocked.

Someone who happened to read my last post probably thought I was exaggerating when I said there was graffiti on the back of my head telling me to wash my dirty hair! No siree! I wasn’t kidding you about not having washed my hair in eons. And as for my apartment, when the management came by for the yearly inspection, I was certain we would be evicted for hoarding.

You see, having failed to put things back in their original place, the apartment looked like I was collecting random things and storing them where they ought not be stored. I’m waiting for a call from social welfare offering me a chance to be a participant on one of the hoarding shows where “collectors” are given psychological help in-order-to rid themselves of all the home clutter. (OK, I agree that “clutter” is a polite way of saying the dwelling is full of what some might call trash, but I am trying to be kind and understanding of a problem I may well be developing!) Well, I am happy to say that I have not yet been served with a notice yet, (nor have I been offered a role in reality TV), but there is plenty of time for that to happen. Thank the good Lord that my husband pays the bills or I wouldn’t have to worry about my residence; I would have been evicted for non-pay.

The problem, you see, is that unlike many of you on the BS forum, life stopped for me the morning I left my apartment to have my surgery. One day I am a disabled woman limping around town; the next day I am hospital bound, then home bound, until my knee heals. Honestly, it is a mindset I developed with my first TKR. My life came to a halt for that recovery as well. Perhaps you can imagine my shock with my physical therapists for both surgeries had the audacity to ask me what I was doing on the weekend, when my surgery was only 5 or 6 weeks out!

I was tongue tied the first time the therapist wondered if I would be attending a concert or camping, only several weeks out from surgery, but when I was asked this question by my current therapist just this past week, I was ready for it: “What do you think I am doing? Sitting home and recovering from this most-difficult surgical procedure!” (Quietly I might have acted a bit immature and said “duh” when he looked away, but he deserved that and more.) What else would I be doing with a crippled leg? (I know that “crippled” is not a PC term we use anymore, but I figured since it is my leg I am discussing, I can call it lame, or crippled, or whatever, depending upon my (poor) attitude at the time.)

In a nutshell, while other TKR’ers are moving along in their recoveries, I am on pause until I feel somewhat healed. I know this does take a while, but with me on disability (and my husband too), who cares if you have to put caution signs around the apartment warning anyone who dares enter to watch themselves so their don’t trip on the stuff that will get put away once I am healed. For anyone worried that I may find unwanted life growing in my unkempt head of hair, I can proudly say that tonight the graffiti is a thing of the past. (Well sort of. Now if you look closely you can see the rather rude admonition to get a hair cut.) Yes, hair doesn’t get cut either until I am healed, though I may throw that plan out the window as my youngest daughter offered to get me a Mother’s Day haircut, and with finances as they are, I would be a fool to turn down the offer. I just don’t want to send the message to me or anyone else that I am healed, and therefore we can expect things to take a turn for the better. That just isn’t going to happen. I learned that from my experience with the first TKR. Some of us just can’t jump back on the band wagon as fast as others.

So now, as I am about to go to my last physical therapy session, I am tempted to go out and get that pink tutu and sparkling tiara to go with my clean hair and shock my PT right out of her shoes!

Someone who has all the free time in the world and allows themselves to read such shallow writing as I submit here on the BS Forum might wonder what the overall lesson is here. What am I trying to share of my TKR experience with others who may not have had my experiences recovering from my TKR is this (tongue in cheek). Well, I’ll have to say this quietly, though I really feel like shouting: “Stop all that rush to buy RV’s and go on trips and clean your homes and have your hair done and throw those parties and attend those weddings! You’re making me look bad as I limp through another day of feeling just a little lousy. If you all keep burning all that energy, jumping right back into life even as you stumble (like me) through the hard days of recovery, I might just have to quit my pity party and join you! Cheers to all the wonder-men and wonder-women who can juggle an active life even as they dress their wounded knees! Hip-Hip-Hooray! (I have more respect for all of you than you can imagine!) But lest we get to thinking that there is only one celebratory way to recover from a TKR, let's offer a round of applause for folks like me (and some of you) who mosey along at a pace not likely to win awards for speed, but still get the yellow ribbon for finishing the race, (which is the overall goal anyway)!

(BTW, this post was written for tomorrow, but I want to send it on in case my computer tells me that it is infected with another Zeus trojan? It’s the honest-to-goodness truth. It happened today and scared the heck out of me!)

 

[sandi4213]

Wow! I hope that writing is an activity you pursue in your "normal" life. You definitely have a talent for it. I know that it can be difficult to hold onto that gratitude attitude, especially when life intrudes with all that "stuff" designed to throw us off. And, of course, it comes in multiples. Speaking of which, I hope you have had some news about your daughter in the hospital. Not knowing what is wrong is the hardest, I think. Also, I can understand your concern over your other daughter moving. I was blessed (spoiled?) having all of my kids and grandkids close and then my oldest moved across the country. Ugh! You know, that is how it works, we raise them, support them, and then they need to make their own lives.

Continue to take care of yourself, and keep striving to get back to that "gratitude" place. I guarantee that it won't make anything worse

 

[KarriB]

There have been some fast recoveries, but most take it very easy the first 3 months. I was one of those whose life stopped. Even though I wasn't here during my recovery you can read the basics in my thread. Another is ACDCJen, she's been exceptionally patient through her recovery as well as @PegGar16 who has been recovering for what seems like years, but has faced it with utter grace and determination. I'll leave their links below for you if you want to be inspired.

https://bonesmart.org/forum/threads/the-girl-with-the-two-fake-knees.37717/page-41#post-1012295

https://bonesmart.org/forum/threads/finally-finishing-up.33783/page-38#post-1010170

 

[Celle]

It's tempting to feel disappointed if we're not progressing as fast as someone else whose story we read. That's why we often advise people not to compare recoveries.
It sounds to me as if you are recovering at a pretty normal rate - which is painfully slow and a great trial of patience.

Try to remember that complete recovery from this major surgery does take a full year, so you are still very early in your recovery journey.

For every person who seems to be recovering faster than you, there will be another whose recovery is slower, and who is feeling frustrated at that.

 

[Anu'sNees]

Sandi4213,
Thank you for responding to my musings. It means a lot to me. When you asked me about my "normal" life I had to stop and think for a moment. What might count as a normal life for me outside of what I am doing right now as I recover. I think my "normal" life flew out the door when I went on long-term disability at my college. Health has never been one of my strong points, but I was well enough to teach college students, even if I had to spend my hours at home recovering (and grading) from a hard day of teaching. When a number of health problems came together as a perfect storm (so-to-speak), I found myself in a place where I could (temporarily I thought) no longer teach. After that, there was no normal as I struggled to get well enough to return to my job. (That has not happened.) Life-long clinical depression moved in big time in the beginning of my time off, and all I really did those days (years, actually) was strive to keep afloat. There was no normal to any of my days. No, I take that back. Normal became a determination to survive from one day to the next. I tried writing over what has become the past 3.5 years, but there was no writing left in me, or so I thought. This attempt to be a member of the BS Forum has brought some normalcy to my life in that I make a plan each day to spend some time writing--both for my benefit and (hopefully) for the benefit of someone who may be struggling with an issue I have been challenged by in relation to my two TKR's. Thanks again for writing.

 

[sistersinhim]

You will do fine without pt, and probably much better! I've had 11 knee surgeries and never took pt. I used my knee in my daily life the way it was intended to be used. I'm divorced, so I had no one to take care of me. I took care of me, my 11 cats, my yard and my home. But, I spent the majority of the time icing and elevating. So, you will start to feel much better getting away from pt and just using your knee. Follow the BS guide lines faithfully and you will do great!

 

[Anu'sNees]

KarriB,
I am heartened to read that other fine people, survivors of TKR's and complications of the same, have found themselves taking what I would caller a slower road to recovery, though others may not agree with the "slow." My last post should have said "Hip Hip Hooray!" to those of us who find ourselves on the sidelines a bit longer for reasons too varied to name. It's not how fast we move forward that counts. (Well, it would be nice to be moving at more than a snail's pace, but I can let go that wish on many days.) Other health problems had sidelined me even before I got the courage to have my first TKR. I had to fake my courage at the time I signed on for the second surgery, as life was already more than I could handle. But here I am, like you and several others you mentioned going forward (at a different pace) (with many, many other determined folks), but always with the goal of some kind of recovery. Thank you for sharing pieces of your story, KarriB. You may or may not be surprised to find that I have read all of your story made available on the BS Website, and I am amazed at your fortitude to keep on going, despite the risks if you choose to have the needed TKR. I will be reading about the other forum members you provided links to, and know I will be equally touched by their abilities and doggedness to meet the unexpected and still stay strong.

 

[Anu'sNees]

This is a short report out of necessity. I spent 4 hours of my morning handing over my body to a hospital emergency department with the goal of determining if I have blood clots or not. I had all the symptoms of blood clots in my leg, plus a history of blood clots and strokes due to atrial fibrillation, so I had no choice but to check in and have an ultra sound. Luckily, no clots were found. But I feel like I have been through the wringer enduring a very swollen, painful leg with no idea as to whether I was in trouble or not. Now I am home, the secondary pain has lessened, but the TKR pain has not surprisingly increased. Bed rest it is. Oh, for those who inquired after my daughter, I thank you. Apparently this daughter has a bacterial infection and (newly discovered) ovary cysts that are suspected culprits for the uncontrollable vomiting. Like her mama, this daughter's life has not been a walk in the park, and I am always thankful when the cause of her problems have been determined NOT to be fatal or otherwise unsolvable. Cheers!