Rehab!!!

Finally!  That was friggin brutal.

5 weeks and 1 day after being released from the hospital, the surgeon has given me the “green light” to transition off of crutches to full weight bearing and, most importantly, to start riding a recumbent bicycle trainer.

If you came in late, this is how it happened: That Wasn’t the Plan

I drove straight from the doctor’s office to the gym and spent 45 minutes spinning – that was so cool!!!  I felt great afterward and walking (with only one crutch now) is slowly beginning to seem more natural.  The first time you try to put weight on something you haven’t used for 5 weeks is an interesting experience – totally, 100 percent, completely counter intuitive.  I’ve just spent 5 weeks perfecting a new skill, and now I must forget it!

Having to use two crutches to get around is kind of difficult, too.  It’s never happened to me before – no broken bones, no visits longer than 3 hours to the hospital.  Yes, even though I just spent 5 weeks as an immobile dependent, I still consider myself lucky, as I am now turning the page on an interesting life experience.

I'm Screwed

While I was waiting for The Doc, the x-rays were put up on the display in the examination room.  I’m no expert, but they looked pretty good to me – the deck screws still freak me out, but…  I was kind of proud of how “un-broken” the bone looked (kind of like a perfectly fitted crown molding), so I took a picture.

One of the benefits of this experience is that I haven’t felt compelled to shave my legs since a couple days before the “incident”.  I hate doing it (I don’t like shaving my face either, btw), but it did make surgery less complicated (okay, very, very slightly) and it is nice (very, very) to have shaved when you have road rash – but it doesn’t work unless you do it before (and it’s tough to plan for that)…  I suppose it would have been cool to have the pretty nurse shave my upper thigh, but there was some other stuff going on at the time to distract me, so maybe I wouldn’t even have noticed – that would suck.  I think I’ll wait until my left leg has recovered to the same size as my right leg again – I think the hair is good camouflage for the skinny one.

For  what it’s worth, pretty nurse told me I wouldn’t remember our conversation that started when I awoke from surgery and lasted until I was secure in my regular hospital bed (complete with morphine drip).  We both have brothers that are recently retired Marine Corps Aviators – but, siblings of Marines are typically quite proud of their brothers and sisters and morphine isn’t enough to make us forget things like that.  Morphine, shmorphine – what else ya got?

I was thinking about other things that happen when you don’t shave your legs.  For example, when I go have beers with my friend (and hairdresser) Fenn Bourland, who owns Urbaca Salon in the Pearl District, I won’t have to wear long pants.  If I wear shorts we look way too much like a gay couple – especially if it’s just after a hair cut – I appear to be far too well groomed…  I haven’t worked out whether that makes it easier to meet the beautiful girls that are wandering “The Pearl”, sometimes with no apparent purpose beyond their quest for the perfect  martini, or not.

Maybe it’s time to give Fenn a call and do an experiment – you know, for science, and the children.

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