There is a novel about a woman that “wakes up” in a mental institution and, of course, is totally disoriented. She keeps hearing references to oatey and petey and how she must get ready for them. It turns out that “oatey” is OT or occupational therapy and “petey” is PT or physical therapy. I know how she feels because I have both.
Or actually I have one. Mr. Oatey came quite unexpectedly on Thursday. After a flurry of activity all week, my brother who was staying with me and I were looking forward to a day of no schedules. Jack was out of town and we didn’t have to be up and around for the cleaning lady, the therapist, or any other reason. We had planned a blissful day of lolligagging followed immediately by rest, some lunch and then more lolligagging.
About 11:00 am I get a call from a gentlemen who informs me that he’s my occupational therapist and wanted to be there between 12:00 and 1:00. I assured him in no uncertain terms that was completely out of the question. I had actually been doing some billable hours and hadn’t even been in the shower. We compromised on 2:30.
Mr. Oatey actually turned out great. He was a very nice man from the India/Pakistan area who diligently put me through my paces, gave me straight A’s and, even though Blue Cross/Blue Shield had authorized four visits, declared quite happily that I was getting along famously and he didn’t need to see me again.
Check off that box.
If you’ve been following the blog, you may remember that there was a mixup on PT providers. At any rate, one guy showed up (Anil) and we sent him away because he was not with the original firm that was authorized. However the guy who showed up from the approved agency was a complete idiot. He had me doing all kinds of things before he even figured out that I was a hip-replacement patient. (Shouldn’t he have known that first?) My husband wants me to file a formal complaint, which I probably won’t do, but gives you an idea of the magnitude of the issue. Anyway, we got rid of him and I’ve been working with Anil now since last Tuesday. He’s a very careful, caring therapist who keeps being impressed that I can wiggle my feet and bend my knees. Unfortunately, he’s a workaholic and even though Monday is Labor Day, he’ll be here with bells on helping me count the number of glute squeezes that I do.
I restarted the Methotrexate last night. I didn’t notice the headaches or other side effects that I normally have. I suspect that it’s because it’s been out of my system for a few weeks now. However, I did have a terrific night’s sleep — which is normal because MTX tends to zap all your energy. My girlfriends came over today at lunch and brought pizza and laughter. I was a bit concerned that I might zonk off in the middle of the festivities, but all went well. It was great to see them. One of my friends is facing surgery of her own next week, so much of the conversation was on surgeries that have been as well as surgery to be. It used to be on men and margaritas — but that was then and this is now.
I’ve dubbed this coming Monday as Blue Monday. And since blue is one of my favorite colors, Monday is turning out to be one of my favorite days. I mentioned that Anil will be here for my PT session. He’s also going to remove all 23 staples out of my butt. He’s suggested a pain pill and ice packs before he does it, but still it will be good to get unstuck. They’re starting to loosen and every so often it feels like someone is sticking a pin in me.
Speaking of sticking pins, Monday is also the last shot of Lovenox and I’m also done with wearing the miserable TED hose by then as well. The socks have been my bain because (besides being so fashion forward) they are so hard to put on. They were my one concern about Jack being gone for three days next week. Now that’s off the table and I’m even more confident I won’t have any issues being on my own for a few days.
I go see Dr. Tucker Wednesday for my follow-up visit. I’m going to have Jack take me by my office for about an hour first to get my quarterly taxes filed and send out August invoices. Hopefully I won’t have to pee during the trip because I’m supposed to be using the special potty chair, but if I do, I guess I’ll try out the handicapped stalls and handrails.
It was terrific having my brother stay with me. I think this is the most we’ve been together since we were in high school together and we’re not even going to discuss how long ago that was. (Although they had his 40th year reunion this past April ….) He’s an excellent person to have around. He doesn’t hover, but was around to help if I needed something. More than anything, I’d sit up in the living room and we’d chat or watch movies. Friday afternoon after he went home, I pretty much just stayed propped up in bed and I realized how good it was to have someone in the house that would get me up and moving instead of laying around on my staples.
That’s all I know for now. All the news is good. After a week of solid travel, it’ll be good to have Jack at home for a few days.
I’ll check in when I know more, certainly after the visit with Dr. Tucker on Wednesday.