The walker has been relegated to mealtime tabletop and work surface as needed. Makes me feel awful silly - the husband dishes out whatever he'd nabbed via takeout, or whatever I've managed to cook/prepare, and brings it to me. Brings back memories of being in a high chair, strangely enough (yes, I do remember), but it's much better than lying on my back and trying to eat from a plate balanced on my belly.
Being back home has definitely had its share of challenges so far. Exercising is difficult, as I don't really want to do it, but I know from past experience that if you don't do your PT, you'll pay for it big time later on. So I slog through all the isometrics before I get out of bed every morning, and work through the rest of the stuff as the day progresses. I forgive myself if I don't get to everything, but I'm realizing now that I've got to be harder on myself if I want to get my whole gait back. Last time I had African dance classes to help ... maybe I'll be able to find something helpful now, given than a choreographer I used to work with a lot now lives here in Chicago!
I've managed to sponge bathe, but so far have not been able to figure out how to wash my hair. It's two weeks now, and my hair looks dull and on the verge of snarling. Makes me unhappy to see it. I'm hoping that once the husband returns this PM, he'll help me tape saran wrap over my wound so that I can shower and wash my hair.
A plus so far, from what I can tell, is that my body fat seems to be reorganizing itself. I've definitely lost weight - I can feel when I lie down that most of my ass has hauled ass, my belly has receded, and the dewlaps over my hipbones are almost history. I don't know if that's all going to show up as weight loss, but it's definitely different! I can look at pix of fashion and feel as if maybe, just maybe, some of those clothes could be a possibility.
Too bad fashion is so ugly these days - all those baby doll dresses and Empire waists make me look even more like breasts on legs than I do generally. Being short-waisted is a fashion curse, and in this age, where good looking tunics are VERY hard to find, I feel even more cursed. Guess I'll have to wait for the cycle to turn yet again.
Overall? I can really see differences, day by day. When I first got home, I'd be up for an hour and then sleeping for three or four. Now, I'm up for a few hours, and then I lie down for a few and take care of stuff, like cleaning out my email boxes, chatting with friends, doing some research, etc. I'm planning to do actual client work today (yeah, I'm procrastinating by blogging right now), so I've got the notes and stuff piled up next to me, to guilt me until I actually nab them and start writing.
Yesterday, Anna, my physical therapist, took me outside for a walk. (Walkies ... walkies...!!!) I thought of my Aunt June, age 70 the first time I met her, with her elegant little toddle and her cane. Did she had a bad hip as well? I wonder if I could acquire a similarly elegant toddle. Right now, my gait feels like a slow, slow amble, with a lot of reliance on the cane. Fortunately, I was able to get to the local Thai restaurant, which is just a block away, and then back to the house. Wednesday, Anna's promised to double the length of the walk.
She also cleared me to lie on my left side and do leg lifts with the right leg. That will be nice - at least I'll be able to snuggle a bit with my husband. I miss that. I don't know why, but he won't snuggle with me right now. It's frustrating. I hope he evolves some more during this process.
I also see the difference in strength and balance, day by day. I've cooked dinner twice so far, have taken over making breakfast for myself, and today even did a bunch of dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. Yesterday the groceries were delivered, and I only needed the husband's help to get roughage into the veggie crisper drawer. The rest, I did on my own. I've also been unloading the dishwasher as needed. The husband is doing the laundry and putting it away (complaining all the while, of course), stacking dishes in the sink, running the dishwasher as needed, and taking out the garbage. Not many more chores than he had when I was able-bodied, but I'll take what I can get.
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