A slight distraction - a workplace restructure

It is a while now since the restructure was announced.

We waited with bated breath.

Then we waited some more.

We were positive, we were brave and we were patient.

Then came some announcements ...

We are still waiting. But we feel loved.

Now we need humour.

I can fly! Truly, I can!

I really don’t want to fly, but over the last (almost) three months I have found humour and even encouragement in the cute little Aussie cartoon which hits my inbox every day.

Sometimes, and I have said this in my blog, I have even felt that the cartoonist has been looking over my shoulder.

A few weeks ago there appeared the following group of cartoons in a mini series. The lead was played by Ding Duck “the world’s worst flying student. After or in spite of 5397 flying lessons at last count, he still can’t fly”.

One would think that people would read, laugh and then move on. But no ... some Swamp watchers decided to offer suggestions to the poor little duck.

Even Ding has encouragers.

Click and read.

http://www.swamp.com.au/dingducksanysuggestionspage.html


I am not running a marathon yet; and there have been times when I have sat in the corner and sucked my thumb, but it seems that, at those times there has been a pick me up from someone. No names as you know who you are. Well maybe you don’t realize the support you have provided. Just as I haven’t always realized the progress I have made and have had to do a few checks and balances to realize.

When you live in the body you are sometimes just too close to notice and it takes those checks and balances or someone to remind you.

As I almost reach the three month mark after a major operation that has become a turning (walking?) point in my life I would like to thank my supporters from all around the world. Who would have thought even a few years ago that you would receive encouragement, get well cards and you can do it cards from places as diverse as my comments and emails have come from.

THANK YOU! And really, it is a small world after all.

Oh, and yes thank you http://www.swamp.com.au/

Swan Lake turns pink … Flamingo Flutter?

A new exercise in my regime involves training for an attempt to balance firmly on my left leg, without wobbling all over the place, something I have been unable to do very successfully for some time.

Does this remind me of something?

Once again it requires a certain amount of trust or faith. Why would I not be able to stand on this leg? Logically, it is a heck of a lot stronger and more reliable than the one I had been hobbling around on for quite some time.

Strangely enough my balance and my idea of vertical is a bit off true. I notice this when, as instructed, I practise in front of a mirror. I feel that I am standing evenly on both legs, but the mirror tells me differently. Perhaps the mirror is not straight?

I’ll get it right and there may still be a chance for me in the corps de ballet.

Ticks, tacks and tasers

I think a little guy with a hammer and a bag full of sharp tacks has taken up residence inside my hip. Well, not in my hip joint, but in my hip area.








I wonder did someone let him in there during the surgery?

Maybe he has a nail gun rather than a bag of tacks. Or perhaps he has gone really cutting edge and invested in a taser.

Why?

Since a few days after my surgery, every now and again, he starts practising tacking, nailing or tasering. During the day it is OK, but during the night, when I am sound asleep, it is a more effective wakeup call that the loudest alarm clock, or for that matter, the loudest screaming hungry baby.

It feels like a very fine, long needle going into the tissues near the wound.

It is, however, probably only the result of one of the sutures which has perhaps hogtied a nerve, dissolving and the nerve is free. "I’m back" it screams, very much like pins and needles on steroids.

The good thing is that it’s another area of the rather stressed “boned out” section of muscle and tissue bonding with the new prosthesis and coming back to work. Regular massage in the area has helped a lot too, even though it was tough letting it happen!

This is all good and another step along the road to recovery.

Not even the wet, dull weather can distract me … well, maybe if I had a good book and a couple of days off work to read it!

My second best friend

Since just before I had my hip surgery I found a new second best friend. I am sure that without this new buddy, the time before and after the operation would have been a lot more difficult than it was.

I decided that if I was to have a new second best buddy, then I might as well have one that looked good, or at least stood out from the crowd.

Today I dressed up my buddy for Christmas; not too dressy, but just a little addition to show my appreciation.

A walking stick is a device used by many people to facilitate balancing whilst walking. When used as a mobility or stability aide, canes are generally used in the hand opposite the injury or weakness. This may appear counter-intuitive, but this allows the cane to be used for stability in a way that lets the user shift much of their weight onto the cane and away from their weaker side as they walk.

Some canes, known as "Tippling Canes," or "Tipplers," have hollowed-out compartments near the top where flasks or vials of alcohol could be hidden and sprung out on demand.

It may be used as a defensive or offensive weapon, and may conceal a knife or sword. Walking sticks come in many shapes and sizes, leading to their being collected.

Initially, I had no idea of the versatility of my walking stick; but as we have bonded, I can see that we could do all sorts of things together. Hhmmm …



















You are possibly wondering who my first best friend has been? Well that would be my carer, or Himself as I sometimes refer to him as. He has stepped up to the mark 24/7 over the last 6 weeks (often with my second best friend in his hand) and helped me with tasks that he probably never considered he would need to do.

Thanks first best friend!

Hobnail boots marching all over Pavlova

Yesterday I had an appointment with the physiotherapist. I would normally look forward to such an event as it is an opportunity for me to see how I am progressing, correct any problems with exercises and hopefully get a tick in my book. Apart from that the physio is a very nice person, who I have known for a fair time, and who quite a few years ago, helped me get over a back injury. She is also good at massage. So, as I had been feeling a bit down and tired for the previous days I was looking for a pick me up too, perhaps some gentle massage?

All my exercises were checked, some alterations noted and then I made the mistake of saying that my hip area was tight and hard and needed some help.

Shall I tell you that, once you are captive on that exercise table you can’t move too quickly to get up and run! So I let my chance go by. In the flick of an eye she had changed into hobnail boots and was stomping all over my hip! Well not really of course, but it sure felt like it. It felt like any of those remaining hibernating areas around the wound, and the wound itself, were really getting a workover.

OUCH!

She should have recognised the delicate ballerina on her exercise table, by the white hose she was wearing, but no. By the end of it I really felt like crumbled meringue.







Postscript: After a hot shower and rest, the hip area did feel a lot better this morning. The moral: No pain, no gain!

Thanks Heather!

All I want for Christmas is …

At this time of the year we experience the arrival of the Christmas Beetle. Sort of like the birds flying south for the winter, the Christmas Beetle seems to fly here for Christmas. I am not sure where it comes from, or even where it goes to after Christmas, but it definitely spends the season here. It would appear logical to me that they would arrive somewhere for Christmas, otherwise why would they be called Christmas Beetles? They seem to use the lights on our terrace, a place where we tend to spend time on a hot tropical evening at this time of the year, as a type of landing beacon. They are quite an attractive beetle, as beetles go, but they have a rather unusual habit. They seem to spend a lot of time, after their arrival, lying on their backs, not resting, but trying to turn back over. We have ceramic tiled floors and that seems to make it even more difficult for them. I am not sure how far they have flown, but I guess after a flight of even a reasonable distance they would be tired and would feel like a rest. Their wings are not very big compared to their body. But you would think they could do a more graceful type of landing and skid across the floor and rest. But no, graceful they are not and they don’t seem to be able to execute that manoeuvre very well at all.

One absolute instruction from my surgeon, and reiterated regularly by the physios, was that I must sleep on my back for the first six weeks after my surgery. Let me advise you that sleeping on my back is not something I have ever done. In the hospital they have a special triangular cushion which is attached by velcro between ankles and knees to “remind” you not to roll over while you are asleep! I have been diligent and kept to this instruction, but I must tell you, I have not enjoyed it!

Christmas will be six weeks since my surgery. On Tuesday I see my doctor for a check up. I have been and had my “photos” taken for the event; I couldn’t find Santa to pose with me, but I am hoping they will be good photos and my doctor will give me the news I have been waiting for.

I don’t want to appear greedy when it comes to Christmas present wishes; as I have already received my greatest present of all. The pain that I have lived with (serious levels for the last 18 months and debilitating for the previous 18 months before that) is GONE! Oh yes, there is still hurt when I push the exercise envelope, but I call that gain pain, because everyday it progresses my rehabilitation. The first few steps I took post op felt like I was a baby struggling to get that “next” foot to move to the correct place and do what it should. It was wobbly and even looked quite weird as I walked towards a mirrored wall (strategically placed there) in the hospital. Specific exercise have helped build up those muscles which have been “resting” for about four years. Now my walking looks "almost normal”. There is still a way to go but it is progressing.

However, what I really want for Christmas is …
…to be able to roll off my back, onto my side and then sleep, on my side, not on my back, for Christmas; and not look like a newly arrived Christmas Beetle. AAhhh….!