I'm home - been home since Wednesday. But in some cases, while it's good to be home, it isn't so sweet as one thinks it might be. Such was my case. One tends to be somewhat cocooned in the hospital. While they did get us up and moving very early every day and it was the rehab ward so we did a lot of that kind of thing, still in a lot of ways there is a whole lot done for you in the hospital. Beds are made. Meals are cooked and brought to you. Water is brought to you several times a day. Medication is already measured out and brought to you when it's time to take it. Well, you get the picture.
So my throw into the deep end of the reality pool was almost immediate when I headed home and had to make a stop at the drug store on the way. Son #1 picked me up and drove me but before going home I had to get all the medication they've prescribed. I went in taking 3 pills a day and left taking 7! Now mind you, 3 are vitamins and the other is percs for the pain. But that seems a lot to figure out every day myself and they have to be taken at different times of the day so that's something I have to figure out for myself anymore. And the trip to the drug store wore me out! I had no idea I would get that tired that soon. I walked over a thousand steps at a time at the hospital - albeit on a step machine. But still, I was exhausted. And when I got home I thought a cup of tea would be just the thing. But the work involved in getting a simple cup of tea almost seemed overwhelming. With 2 good legs and working arms it's a snap. But when one of the legs is broken and one is already tired, it's almost overwhelming.
And I don't think Son #1 did any housework at all while I was a month in the hospital. He says he did and while I don't want to argue with him, I say he didn't. So when I walked -or rather wheeled into the house again, I wanted to cry at the amount of housework needed to make me feel comfortable. Not even my bed was good to sleep in. Destructo cat had let her displeasure at my disappearance be known and peed on the bed. I had Son #1 wash all the sheets but he didn't think to make the bed after that and I'm tired of constantly asking him to do things and at times I don't think think he's doing the life math - mother with broken leg can not make bed on her own.
So for the first several days I've been pretty depressed. I finally bit the bullet and asked my group of friends for help and the absolutely wonderful group they are, they are all have offered to help in one way or another. One of them has her own room mate who just underwent knee replacement surgery so she has her own patient to look after and I know from experience how tired and in pain her room mate is so she needs to take care of her. But even knowing that she is taking care of someone in similar circumstances helps.
I had the PSW come over yesterday to help me with my shower. Yep, I can't even shower by myself - think how slippery the tub can be and how scary it can be when both legs can't support you the way they are supposed too. I hadn't had a full shower since last Saturday - when in the hospital you only get a shower once a week - the rest of the time it's sponge baths, so while somewhat embarrassing having to have someone other than an approved member of the opposite sex see me nekkid as a jaybird, it did feel marvelous to be that clean again.
So all this is to say that I haven't blogged as I was sad and feeling sorry for myself and I couldn't seem to find my usual sense of humour and optimistic self. I haven't even been able to pick up a book to read!!! Now that makes things real serious. I've always read when things were looking gloomy (or happy, or happy or sad or scary or sunny or whatever). But things have turned a corner now thanks to good friends so it's much better. I leave you with what I think is the theme song of my life. Truly - this song has always really spoken to me and it was just on the radio and once more it really hit home