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Chris is married with 3 cats and lives just outside Coventry. She owns The Amethyst Centre, which is a complementary therapy and training centre.

Wednesday 25 December 2019

Reviewing the situation

I guess, on this Christmas Day, it might be time to write about my hospital stay.

We got there as requested before 7am, and were asked to wait in the staff's Day Room. (I found later it was because the previous occupant of my allotted space had suffered projectile vomiting and diarrhoea about an hour before I arrived!)

About 8.30 I went through the forms with one of the nursing trainees, and met the anaesthetist and Mr Modi the surgeon. They went through what they were going to do, and put me at my ease. Then back to the day room.

I was told I'd be first up for surgery, but because of the issues with the ward (which was now being thoroughly cleaned and all the curtains replaced) I'd have to wait. At 10.30 I went down to a space on the ward, and then was given the 10-minute warning to get changed into the gown. Steve left at this point and went home.

I was taken down to the surgical suite, where they went through everything again and drew on my shoulder, so that they could see not to operate on the other one! I had a canula inserted (more on that later!) and lay on the bed. The anaesthetist gave me the sedative and told me to go to my happy place.

Ah.

I don't have a happy place as such.

So I imagined myself on my chair at home listening to Pink Floyd.

Next thing I knew I was in another room, my arm in a sling and strapped closely to my body, and someone was speaking my name. My first thought was "oh do shut up. I haven't slept that well in years" but I did finally open my eyes and they drove me back to the ward, where my allocated space was waiting.

Half-sitting in the bed, I looked round. The women who'd had their knee operations were getting ready to go home. The lady in the diagonally opposite bed had her hip replaced: apparently she'd been there 5 days, and all because she'd not passed a motion in that time. You have to poo before they let you out. "Humph" I thought. "We'll see about that". I was really hungry, and one of the nurses welcomed me back with a cup of tea and a piece or two of toast, which I relished! Beautiful. Tea was due about 6pm and it was now 3pm. The op must have taken about 3 hours, 11 - 2 I think?

Mr Modi came in to see me and go through what had happened. When they'd opened me up, they found the arthritis was much more severe than they thought, and it was affecting the scapula (shoulderblade) and going towards the spine as a result. They'd cleaned up as much as they could, but it had meant that my shoulder replacement had been a reverse one. The ball joint was attached to the muscles in the chest and the clavicle (collarbone) and the glenum (top of the scapula), while the socket was now the top of the humerus (armbone). This would have some implications for future mobility of the joint, but actually it would be easier to recover from. I'd had a nerve block into the brachial plexus, and slow-release morphine as the pain relief during the operation, and both would be worn off in the next 24 hours.

I don't remember what the meal was, I do remember eating with one hand after the nurse had cut it all up for me! That left arm of mine was going nowhere.

I'll end there and continue in another post. This had been the relatively uneventful part.

Sunday 15 December 2019

One step forwards, one or two steps back?

So over the past couple of weeks I've had to slow down the pace of my recovery a bit.

I was catching the bus to get to hospital for physio and to call in at work the other week, and on my way from work walking down hill to the 86 bus stop. I could feel a weakness in my legs, muscles shaking and inability to put one foot too far in front of the other. This couldn't be right could it? After all, I'd been doing short walks (0.2 or 0.3 miles, to the bus stop and back, or to the shop and back, every other day) for a couple of weeks and surely I should start seeing an improvement in my physical condition by now.

Another thing that happened that I wasn't expecting was the return of the severe headaches that I'd had in 2006, when it had been diagnosed as an issue with the placement of the scapula on my right shoulder: 6 months of intensive physio and taping seemed to have cured these, but here they were again. I wondered if it was because the physio exercises were done on one side only.

I had a day when I had a physio appointment at lunchtime and then the two-month post-op meeting with Mr Modi in the afternoon. I mentioned to Jenny the physio both the above conditions, and she suggested that the op had provoked a flareup of my rheumatoid arthritis. I hadn't even considered this possibility! So I have an appointment with my GP next week to see what he thinks. The headaches, she agreed with me about the exercises and so we've adapted them. Some of the ones I do lying down I now do with both arms, and the major stretches I do with both arms too. Let's see how that works.

She came to the consultant appointment too. I had an X-ray of the shoulder taken, and Mr Modi is really pleased with the progress and his handiwork, he showed me what it looked like and answered my questions about where the screws were screwed into. As it was 8 weeks post-op, I asked him if it was OK for me to drive and he agreed, especially as I have an automatic car, but to keep it local just now. So I guess that means no driving across the country visiting relatives for me!

I now have a plan for a phased return to work too.

Now until 14th January: 2 half-days a week.
14/1 - 8/4: 4 or 5 half-days a week.
8/4: 6-month signoff meeting with Mr Modi
After Easter: back to work full-time.

I had planned for a full-time return from the 14th January, so this is a bit of a blow for me I'm afraid. However, at least I can go back and do things. I can do therapies as long as I don't do massage: no cleaning or heavy lifting (yeh, right...), and keep up with the exercises.

I did do all day (9 - 3) on Saturday on my own, teaching the Violet Flame initiation in the morning and manning reception in the afternoon, then I cleaned up and mopped the floors.

Big mistake.

I am still not quite recovered from that! So, so tired when I got home. So much pain - out with the Zapain and I've had 3 doses since then, including one double dose (which is allowed if needed). And the headache returned last night so I had to take some ibuprofen as well.

Oh well, I guess it's all a learning curve isn't it. I am so frustrated, particularly as about the only thing I've been able to do is be a keyboard warrior! I did try and put the hoover over in the week as well, which was a similarly painful experience. But if I don't do it, it doesn't get done, and with 3 long-haired cats, it has to be done.


Tuesday 3 December 2019

A catch up post

I know I've been quiet at the moment, but I've not had a lot to say and when I have, I've said it. I know that's unusual for me!

Today was day number 2 in the phased return to work. Walk to bus stop: bus to town: walk to bus station: bus to Ball Hill: walk to Centre. A couple of hours there with Janet, catching up, meeting the new physiotherapist, sorting things out. Then walk down to Binley Road, catch the bus to Binley Woods, walk home.

Collapse in an exhausted, quivering heap.

I still haven't recovered 4 hours later.

I'm now starting to wonder whether there is something more sinister going on here. Why am I so prostrated by a minimal amount of exercise - less than 1.5 miles in 4 chunks, each chunk punctuated with a good sit down? Why do my legs tremble after a few steps? What is going on? How have I got worse rather than better in the last couple of weeks?

I am at the hospital again tomorrow. Walk to bus stop: bus to town: bus to hospital. Physio, then lunch, then consultant. Bus to Warwickshire shopping park: walk across Morrisons car park: bus to Binley Woods: walk home. I shouldn't be quite as knackered as I am today. Should I?

I shall mention it to the consultant tomorrow, but I'm guessing I need to see my GP. Wish me luck.

I have been taking a goodly amount of decent supplements: Vit D3, an excellent multivitamin, glucosamine, an Omega 3-6-9 oil. It's just the exercise bit that I'm struggling with now.




Tuesday 19 November 2019

Milestones or goals?

Today hasn't been a good day. I have done next to nothing tangible, except go back to bed for a couple of hours. I did expect the physical effects of such an exertion though. The achievement last night of the one big goal I had - to go to Birmingham to see Steve Hackett - gave me pause for thought overnight and during today.

I bought these tickets over 13 months ago, before I'd even been told I needed a shoulder replacement, and right up until I got the date I never even thought my attendance was in question. Then a certain amount of panic set in as I worked out that it would only be 5 weeks since the op and I wouldn't be driving by that time.

My "fitness" drive in the last couple of weeks was aimed at getting me to Birmingham and back: after all, I'd hardly walked anywhere except up and down stairs for over a month and this period of enforced inactivity had taken its toll. My legs have slimmed down to the point where my leggings are hanging off instead of clinging to the flesh. I suspect that is muscle wastage.

Having not received the OK to drive yet, it would have to be a trip done on public transport. So, walk to the bus stop (0.3 miles), bus to town, bus to train station. New Street station to Symphony hall via the Post Office Vaults and Pieminister. What could possibly go wrong.

The journey between Pieminister and the Symphony Hall was horrendous. I had to sit and rest twice, and lean on a railing once. The world was going grey at one point, a sure sign that I wasn't taking in enough oxygen. I think it took me 20 minutes to walk about 500 yards.

Fantastic concert - but it hurt to applaud! So I resorted to tapping the edge of the terrace box where I was sitting.

The walk back was downhill so it only took me about 20 minutes to walk the 1000 yards, I only stopped once to get my breath and we managed to get an earlier train than the one I had planned. Taxi home, then drink of water and bed.

So what was I thinking about today?

Was this event a milestone - something to mark the passing of time or distance: or a goal - something to aim for? In determining that I was going to this gig come hell or high water, was I setting myself a goal for my recovery? Why is the distinction so important for me? If the gig was a milestone, then all that is needed is to mark the next one in the recovery. But if the gig was a goal, well I have now achieved that goal. Do I now need to set another goal and aim for it?

I have a long history of not setting goals. Or rather, of setting them and not achieving them for one reason or another, usually health-related. So I hesitate to set any goals or targets, call them what you will. I seem to have achieved a fair amount without using the means of setting goals.

I would value your thoughts on this one.

Saturday 16 November 2019

Turning the corner

5 weeks on, and I definitely feel that a corner has been turned.

The physio tells me that the range of movement I have is back to where it was before the op, which is great. I'm doing more and different exercises, including some of the ones I was doing before the op to try and maintain what I had, and it is definitely making a difference.

So much so that I'm going to call into work next Thursday afternoon! My main priority is to sort out the money position, which from what I can see is OK but could have been better if the paying customers hadn't cancelled so often. This has led me to take action and institute a pay-on-booking policy. The Centre needs to increase the inflow of cash if it is to survive.

I've also spent some time today, with Steve's help, sorting out clothing. I can now get back into the extra large polo shirts with help, so that is now what I'm wearing! I've also sorted out some decent clothing to wear outside, so I can see Steve Hackett on Monday in Birmingham without feeling scruffy. Some of the new clothes I bought for this purpose I can see aren't really suitable, being just ponchos rather than batwing tops: at least one I might be able to sew up the side seams of to make it wearable though. Another one just makes me look like a sack, so that can go on Ebay. I bought a one-sleeved top but that just looks daft. There's a very cosy ribbed soft woollen jumper without sleeves, which might be OK for indoors. And I can start to wear bras again! Woo hoo!

I took a walk to the shop round the corner yesterday, and made it without even having to stop and rest at the bench halfway. So this means I can go to the Steve Hackett gig with Steve, which is what I've been aiming for ever since 11th October. I will have to set other milestones after Monday!

Thank you for following my journey this far. There will be more as I get back to work, and as I try and work within my limitations, and also as I try and dream a new future, one in which I can use both arms!

Sunday 10 November 2019

Help: receiving it, asking for it, and making use of it once you have it

I knew I should have asked for help cutting my pork steak.

After a few minutes, and about halfway through the meal, I decided the pain in my shoulder was enough to stop me eating, so I asked Steve if he wanted to finish off the veg for me. "Did you want me to cut things up for you?" he said. Well yes. But actually no I didn't. I wanted to be able to manage a proper adult Sunday dinner for myself, which means cutting meat while holding it still with my left hand, and forking it into my mouth with my left hand. A combination of my struggle with this and the use of the fork in my left hand brought on a muscle spasm. Steve commented he knew he should have cut the meat for me but didn't want to belittle my abilities.

There will be bubble and squeak for lunch tomorrow.

*****

I am so crap at asking for help.

And when I do, I tend to forget that I have the help and just carry on regardless. Take the planning process I went through before the op. I asked my friend Ghis who is a medical herbalist, to go through my supplements with me and work out when I should resume taking what supplements, and what to add. Needless to say the only part of it I'd remembered was the Vitamins E and D3 to start when I get home from hospital! So today, when I was putting up my medications for the week, I noticed a large tub of glucosamine, which jogged my memory that it is now 4 weeks post-op and I should be taking that, and also the Organic Beauty Oil from NYR Organic, which is full of omega compounds and which I've been taking since its release. Both of these will help with my knee and hip joint problems and mean I can walk better, so they will be started tonight.

*****

So why would this be? Well I think it goes back to me being an only child, and learning at an extremely early age that I had to sort things out for myself, that I couldn't trust my parents to help me and that if I needed their help, it was more often than not delivered with raised voices or slaps. I think it goes back to this "self-settling" nonsense that was practised when I was a baby: this is where you leave your crying child until they stop crying. One of my earliest memories was having a "tantrum", and being locked in the living room. I vividly remember sitting there, and thinking "well that's it, I'll never see my mom again" and crying even louder and harder. At that point I decided that, if my mother wasn't going to be any help to me when I couldn't stop crying, I would call on whatever help was available - and I'm pretty sure that was when my "invisible friends" started to materialise.

I created my own world - Christinonia - where I was ruler, full of people who actually liked me, enjoyed my company, and talked to me as if I was a friend. They did what I asked: if I needed their help and support, I got it. Even though nobody else could see them, I certainly could. (This ability did fade as I got older) Of course, now I know who they are - they are my spirit family and, as I once said to a medium who visited me, I keep a full house. Even now, I talk to them and they do really talk back to me. However, it took some time before I sorted the good voices - the ones who were always supportive - from the bad voices, who at their worst advised me to kill myself as I had made a real cock up of my life (aged 15). Sometimes they reappear, but now I know them and I remind myself that I'm only hearing them because I'm tired and I need to sleep

So, if I have nothing to take away from this episode of enforced reflection, it is that if I need help, I just need to ask and it will arrive. Of course, I then have to remember that I asked and it is there!

Saturday 9 November 2019

My recalcitrant body

I am not a fan of my body at the moment.

Yes there is rehab to do, and I am doing it to the best of my ability. 3 lots of exercises 3 times a day, with others from previous weeks from time to time, and some of the other exercises that I used to do when my other shoulder needed work.

I've decided too, that it is time for me to get my legs back in working order. So I've downloaded the Strava app and you are welcome to buddy up with me on there (or whatever you call it). On Thursday I walked to the end of the road and back, and on Friday I walked to the bus stop, where there is a bench. I had about two minutes rest and then walked back.

Oh that was so hard! I try and monitor my posture, and I catch myself stooping and walking like a figure 2 or something - bending forwards with my bum sticking out! I am so self-conscious! And my hips are so short - I mean they need to be more flexible - and my knees hurt so much...I tried to use both my arms when walking, and when I got home my bad arm really hurt because of that. And it was soooo cold! But I have to do it. I have got to walk otherwise (a) I won't be able to go to the Steve Hackett gig on the 18th in Birmingham, and (b) I have got to go to the Centre about that time to sort out the money, and I will need to walk as I won't be able to drive by then. Plus (c) there are 16 stairs at the Centre and at the moment I won't be able to manage them.

The other thing I've noticed is that my boobs are really lopsided now. The muscle tone on the left side is ridiculously low. The best thing in the last few days is that I've found out some old camisole tops with a hidden bra, and most of them actually fit (if I don't do the bra up that is!) so I can get some support now. I reckon I will be able to get back into the front-loading bras next monthl.

So if you feel like it, some messages of support wouldn't go amiss at this time. Thank you.