Hip Hooray

Elise says:

"I miss everyone like crazy. I'm working on big important stuff. And have successfully explained to staff that having a working hip on the right side for the first time in 43 years means that my hesitancy with some of the PT is not fear of pain, but because I don't want to break it."

in other news:
- PT is focusing on the stuff she's having the most trouble with, right now (getting in and out of bed, in particular, which is still harder for her than the actual walking is.

- She had a good conversation yesterday with the social worker and the nurse coordinator, to help explain the 'back to normal function' thing does not so much apply to her (because she's been working with adaptations for 43 years, after all.) They've set some goals on when she can go home, and it looks like that will be sometime around August 1st to 3rd.

(I meant to post last night, and posted to my own journal instead. This is what happens when I have a long day, sorry!)

I am back again with our favorite bionic lioness, (who has now caught up on all of your lovely comments) and she wishes to say:

[direct dictation commences]

Hello! Various people keep telling me that I am mighty, so I am apparently mighty. Hmmm.

Achievements today:
- I did not scream during physical therapy. I did make very fierce noises, though. But I think fierce noises are better than screaming. [Jenett: They are certainly more amusing for the onlookers.]

- I have discovered that very significant motivation is useful. When a person no longer has a catheter, and there's this commode, but to get to it, you must call for the nice people and then stand up, you are by God going to get that done as quickly as possible. "I will be standing up now", I said to them. "All right" they said. "Is that walker going to stay where it is?" I said? "Yes." They said. "Alrighty, then, I am going to stand up."

"I am pivoting now." "Ok." "Am I doing that right?" "Oh, yes." "Good then, 'cause I'm not stopping."

"Is that the commode behind me, against the back of my legs." "Yes." "Can I sit down now?" "Yes" "Good then. Sitting down." "All righty."

It is difficult to express how comforting it is to be able to sit in relative peace and wash oneself, and put on a fresh hospital gown. Sonya confirmed that my hair really was in elflocks, and combed it out for me. I wasn't sure you could get elflocks in hair that short, but I did.

- I have slain the bowl of oatmeal, yes.

- I have told jokes to the nurses.

- I have sung songs with Sonya.

- And I have eaten a graham cracker, which I am not entirely sure I am supposed to have, but I am not giving it back. It is my goal to get all of the systems working. What we want is what they call throughput. [Jenett: Graham crackers would be the sort of thing you want for that, if you remember the history. (insert digression on graham cracker history here I am not typing - Jen)]

- I have done more physical therapy than before. I have won some respect. [Jenett: And did even more than desired, to boot!]

- I called up my pain management breathing skills and that helped. We have a lot more range of motion right now. But I haven't yet talked the muscles into working so easily.

- I am no longer carrying on conversations from dreams as much. [Jenett: Sort of a pity. Again, they are amusing to the observers, as they were mostly about running 4th Street.]

- I am going to transitional care tomorrow, they tell me, at a place that understands the CART services. [Jenett: This is the one we were angling for: it's in the same complex as the current hospital.]

[dictation end]

As noted, the transitional care happens tomorrow. (Many and mysterious are the ways of the hospital, as they've been saying it would have to wait till Monday. Still, no complaints here.) I am not currently on the schedule for tomorrow, so as to give me a day to recover, but will see if any of our other esteemed civilian aides can be persuaded to either post something here, or call me with an update.

Elise asks me to add that she is about to ask them for some nose grease, as the air here is very dry. The upcoming minutiae of her day, she adds, will not be nearly as interesting to them as to her. And she hopes to be awake enough soon to manage more than two pages in a row on a Kindle.

I've finally gotten a chance to get to a computer with a 'Net connection after spending most of the morning with our favorite bionic lioness.

She is doing a lot better this morning (and the pain seems to be slowly getting more under control.) I got there at 6am, got an update on the overnight stuff, and then was around for various morning things - everything from meds to food to her first physical therapy session. She got as far as sitting up and very briefly standing long enough for us to move some of the post-surgery support structures out from under her on the bed.

In typical Lioness fashion, she apologised profusely to the physical therapy folks for saying "Ouch" a lot and not being able to do everything all at once. They were great, and also very amused.

I also got to see my first encounter with the CART (real time captioning) folks: despite us puzzling her somewhat with references to grues (the path from the parking to Elise's hotel room is a maze of twisty passages, all alike), skiffy (in reference to something I'm reading and we were discussing), and various other terms of art, she was not only very good at her job, but seemed to be enjoying it. The CART is definitely a big help to Elise, as it gives her a way to keep track of ongoing conversations much more easily when her focus is not as good as it might be.

All of the other medical staff were also very thoughtful about handling the signs around the room saying "Hearing Impaired Patient" and instructions on how to deal with that.

I will be back there tomorrow morning, bright and shiny early, and am otherwise alternating between a brief stint at the job to deal with paperwork.