Friday's exhilaration faded quickly as I prepared for bed that evening. My right leg felt as though a quantity of rubber bands -- brand new ones -- were tightly wound around my foot, calf, thigh and the entire knee area. I couldn't force the leg into relaxation, and the tension soon affected my entire body. When I got into bed, or, rather,
onto bed, where I'd been sleeping for the previous 2-3 nights because the unbearable weight of sheets and electric blanket, I realized I was in for a long night.
Ensuing tears were initially the result of frustration, but soon they had no reason. The meltdown receded when I took a couple of
hydroxyzine (in my opinion, this is a very poor muscle relaxant but I sure wish I'd had it for the itch from my mosquito bites in the Dominican Republic!) and I finally found a semi-comfortable position with a pillow under my knee. By 1 AM, after several hours of half-dozing, I was at my wits' end and I gook a couple of Tylenol, along with another 2 hydroxyzine. I was freezing cold so I put on my sweats and moved downstairs to the couch. I was sensible enough to be afraid of falling, but I did make it down the stairs safely and onto the couch. I started to cry again, partly because I was exhausted but also out of relief to be back in a safe place. By this time, I had wakened the cat, who had decided that it must be breakfast time. She crunched merrily for 15 minutes or so.
I managed to make it through till morning but I felt as though I had spent the night drinking cheap booze. More tears. I wondered why I had ever decided to go through with the knee surgery. I didn't know what hurt more, my knee or the throbbing head. Bob, bless him, brought me a cold washcloth for my head and the feeling passed. I felt a return to the land of the living.
We did my favorite Saturday thing (deer at Fort Snelling State Park). Despite his opposition to the mess made by my bird visitors, Bob filled the bird feeder. I spent a couple of hours with my leg in the CPM machine. For the first time, I changed my seating in the living room, moving between the couch, my favorite armchair and Bob's new recliner (VERY comfortable, but a little risky for me because of the swivel). Once again, I didn't go to Mass, deciding to give into Bob's apprehension about crowds, slippery floors, ice outside the church, and leaving church in the dark.
We spent the evening watching
Julie & Julia, enjoyed more by me than by Bob, although I think we both identified with Julie's meltdown scenes! By 9 PM, the crisis seemed to have passed and I tentatively began to hope for a night's sleep. And it was pretty good! I feel great (good?) today!