Week 5: Forward Motion
The first stage of recovery from a total knee replacement is getting past the initial swelling and pain. That first couple of weeks was rough, a battle royal between the body's trauma and the mind's negotiations. The body does whatever it needs to for it to heal, and the mind struggles to find some sense of equilibrium, ways to hold onto bits of itself or find a way through the mess the body is in, hoping to reach some elusive, mystical "other side" where the decision to have subjected itself to this procedure makes sense.
Fortunately, I excel at this. I can find the silver lining to any situation. Perhaps you've noticed this, and how my journey documents my tendency to embrace every sign of hope. And there have been many. My body has done a pretty stellar job of recovering from the grand assault of surgery. My progress toward "normal" has been remarkably linear.
So today, my five week knee-versary, here's where things stand:
My right knee feels 90% like a normal, natural knee. Full extension from the start. There's some tightness along the incision that reminds me it is not. It's a bit stiff in the morning or after prolonged sitting or exercise but loosens up with a few steps of walking. It gives me no problems and is a strong, ready member of the team.
My left knee is at about 50%. Tightness along the incision is no worse than on the right. Lefty has soft tissue post-surgical pain on the medial side. This pain occurs whenever Lefty bends. This means walking, or sitting, or when I change positions at night. Extension is at 1, so almost there.
Flexion is the same for both knees at 120.
My left knee pain has been IMPROVING a little each week. Some days Lefty hints at becoming pain-free. Tylenol does a good job of keeping the pain manageable.
I walk without a cane in the house. My gait is good according to PT. For the first time in years I have a "stride." I use a cane for walking outside or on errands.
I elevate and ice several times a day still. On days when I cannot ice, I notice the difference. The icing keeps my knees calm.
I prepare and cook simple meals, visit neighbors for coffee and snacks, take care of the dog, tidy and clean in small doses throughout the day, and wash dishes. I'm not yet up to big projects, gardening (aside from deadheading flowers), or long trips to the grocery store. I am hoping to try a grocery run this coming weekend. Mr. Shoes refuses to buy fresh produce because he's not sure how to pick an onion or a bag of cherries. I'm out of onions and love cherries.
The first stage of recovery is behind me. I consider this to be stage two: consolidation. My early little successes are pulling together into these new, functional, and increasingly able knees. I'm starting to do things automatically as if these knees are the original ones. Like yesterday when I was going down the stairs, and I just went foot over foot down a step. I froze. I was out of sequence! What should I do with my cane? It was a minor lapse, and I laughed at myself, and then I went foot over foot down the next step too, because that was the bottom. But it's like, "Well, I can do that!" And Lefty didn't complain at all. Lefty was like, "I got this!"
And that's what's going on. I'm forgetting my knees "can't" do things. You see, my old, original knees couldn't do things, but my brain never forgot how to do them. And these new knees can actually do these things! They can go up and down stairs. I just have to relearn the balance involved. And as this stage of my recovery moves forward, I just know I'm going to be doing more and more. That's what I'm looking forward to!
United States
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