Well, I had the surgery yesterday. No one seems to know what the doc did while he was in my leg. When I came to, I asked the nurse, who promptly checked my chart, only to find the note, "Left knee arthroscope." Heck, I could have put that note in there, as I knew that was what was going to happen the day the doc said he'd operate.
There's really not much to report, other than the staff starting to recognize me at the hospital. I wouldn't be shocked if they just started reserving a room for me, with hand-picked staff to handle my goofiness.
And I was goofy. I was a bundle of nerves prior to the surgery, and made numerous bad jokes in an effort to deal with the stress. My BP was 137 over 83, I believe, which is high for me. Also, a semi=pleasant surprise, my blood sugar was 60 even. Not high at all, which was good, but just low enough for them to want to get more glucose into my IV, just to play it safe.
Today, I have two issues. I'm sore, and the muscles up and down my left leg feel incredibly tight. It's as though the muscles want to be doing anything other than relaxing. I've put a call in to the doctor's office to find out if there's anything that can be prescribed to get my leg to rest. And the soreness...? It feels like it's directly under my kneecap, bringing to me the belief that the doc may have shaved down some arthritis here. For all I know, it wasn't a tear of anything causing my kneecap to roll, but the very shape of the arthritic growth.
None of this has anything to do with the title of this post. No, the title refers to the two-minute call I had with Becky when I arrived at the hospital. She said I could call her that early, (7:30 AM her time). And then my lady-love just wakes, there's a tone to her voice that is much softer than the rest of the day. When she said, "I love you," it was simply so tender that it immediately warmed my heart. And I needed that so badly yesterday morning. It made facing the surgery a bit easier. Because my last leg surgery had me rushing to the emergency room the same night, I needed the boost that only love can provide. Well, my sweet, beautiful Becky provided, which and it helped a great deal.
So, as if writing one of my love letters right here on my blog wasn't enough, I love you too, Rebecca (whatever you last name is). I love you tremendously. You give me strength when I think it's fading. You heal my soul when I think life is too rough. And I plan on spending the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me.
That's it for today, gang. I need to get my tuchas back to bed. Be well.
EDIT: It's a few hours since I posted this, and I was awaken by a call from the doctor's office. First of all, nothing can be prescribed for my muscle issues. Not medication, that is. The doc wants me to head for physical therapy, which is easier said than done. It's not easy to arrange rides of late, as Ray's car is dead, and everyone else works. The other thing I was told is that my vitamin D level is extremely, extremely, extremely low. A prescription was being called in for that, and I am to take the dose for the next six months. For reasons unknown, I'm imagining a pill the size of a cow that I'll be told I have to swallow whole.
And none of this changes the fact that I still love Becky for being my personal miracle. =)