DEFCON 5

It's really weird to talk to the hospital as they give you pre-op instructions. "Take this medication, have a driver. Do not take that medication. No food or water after midnight the night before, but in the morning you can take this pill with a sip of water. Shower the night before and the morning of, using Dial or other antibacterial soap."

And from the doctor's office: "5 days prior to your surgery you're going to be doing a major antibacterial detox using Hibiclens showers once a day, and then the night before the surgery, scrubbing yourself with a special anti-bacterial wipe, and then do that again in the morning before surgery..." and they'll be scrubbing you AGAIN when they get you on the table. 

I was tempted to do the "hospital version," till a friend of mine said, "You know, the orthopedic surgeon is basically sticking a big metal and porcelain piece of equipment into your body. He's asking you to go DEFCON 5 so that you don't accidentally transmit any bacteria into the surgical site, which will go directly to the bone." 

OK. So we're going DEFCON 5. I've never felt so...sterile. Though it's a sink bath. Because I'm - quite honestly - scared witless of slipping in the shower; even though we have grab bars, a non-slip mat and there's a seat there, it's all in my head, and then there's the "get out" part. It's about 2" to step over and shifting weight onto the left leg at this point is an iffy proposition. My leg hurts. And it's kind of my own fault...

The other day, Hubby was out. I made lunch (which I could carry in a pocket, it was a sandwich that I put into a plastic container) and some chai. That was in a travel cup. I have a very small house, so I'm lucky enough (?) to have little waystations where, if I'm careful, I can move something, bit by bit, to my point of destination. 

I got careless. I was stumping along with my 2 sticks, thinking how slick I was, and I grabbed the travel cup wrong. The lid sprang off, the bottom (14 oz) fell to the ground, and chai went. All. Over. The. Place. It was on the couch. On the sewing machine. On the floor. On the dog. On me. On. The. Ceiling... 

To say I was dismayed would be an understatement. Hubby was not long gone, so I had no recourse. I stumped back to the kitchen, told Quinn to "leave it" (the last thing I need is a dog buzzed on chai and sugar). Grabbed a towel and a roll of paper towels and started to mop up. I sponged it off the knick-knacks on the sewing machine. Wiped off the legs - of the sewing machine cabinet and then my own legs. Got it off the couch, where I could see it. Then, the floor. Ice cubes and chai. Me on sticks. What's a girl to do? 

I got down onto the floor, on my knees (yeah, about as much fun as you'd think) and started to gather the cubes into the cup, and swab up the chai. There was no way I was going to be able to mop, but if I could get it up off the floor, at least that was something; Hubby could mop. 

Quinn just settled herself on the rug near the TV, well out of the way. 

I got it all up. Managed to get MYSELF up off the floor in a very wonky wide-legged downward-facing dog in reverse. It was not fun. I got myself to the kitchen and rinsed out the towel. Put the paper towels in a small bag and left them there for a bit. Sank into my chair and wanted to just weep. Ate my sandwich. Took a fitful nap and berated myself more than a bit.

And Hubby mopped after he got home. He and I didn't notice that it got to the ceiling till the other day... And that's cleaned now too. 

The Knitting...

I don't know why I'm dallying. Usually at this point, I'm whizzing along to get the sock finished, but I'm doing bit by bit on the toe of the first Petty Harbour. I know part of it is me being fidgety. I hurt, in my hip and in my hands (death grip on the canes). The surgery is this Friday (it's Tuesday as I type this). 

Tonight, I have a Zoom meeting, but before then, I'll try to get a few more rows in. Tomorrow, I'm at the office till late - the last office visit till I'm let loose by the docs, so I have several things that must be done. And that 12-hr day wipes me out. I don't get home till 7 p.m. and I can't do much for meals, because I'm careful of what I can carry in safely, since I probably -- if I had any sense at all -- would have planned to stay home like any normal person. 

The sock was started December 19. 2017...it's not like I'm in a hurry. Maybe if I can get this one done in the next few days, I'll feel better. 

I will look in the stash after the surgery to see what I might have to do another pair of these. I like the texture on the leg; and maybe the next pair will be pattern on leg only, which is my usual style. 

I know I'm not frogging the Long Sands till after surgery. I just figured that would be a good "between walks" project. 

Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll start the second Petty Harbour sock before surgery. Not counting on it, but one never knows. I just can't seem to focus on much right now. 

Random Picture...

This will be a very short blog, kids. Again - that lack of focus thing... This was Quinn yesterday.

Totally zonked and getting some of her "solid 18" in the form of a snorting, snoring nap in the afternoon. She even slept through several people walking across the street. She didn't even mind the little bit of blanket covering her nose, which normally would have bugged her. 

Normally, if a cricket farts 3 blocks over or a leaf drops in the next town, she's going nuts barking. As a senior (she's 12 now), the sleeps are deeper. It's sort of melancholy to watch, because I know that she's getting older. Does she drive me nuts sometimes? Yeah. But. She's my Quinnie...