Saw the hip
surgeon today. It’s been one year plus about ten days since my surgery. He’s
pleased with my progress, calls me a star patient. Said the hip is strong,
securely in place—no, I still can’t cross my legs in a ladylike manner, and I
should never pull my foot back to put on a shoe. As for the walker, he said he
can fix the hip, but he can’t fix the brain connection about balance to my leg.
I’ve never had good balance in all my life, partly I think due to my phobias (open
space is a biggie for phobics, and I always when possible walk next to a wall
or railing or something to hang on to) and partly reminiscent of what my mother
once said to me: “I wish I’d given you ballet lessons. They would have made you
graceful.” Thanks, Mom. Anyway, he said given my poor balance, he wants me on
the walker rather than falling again. He complimented the way I came down the
hall to his examining room and suggested I put less and less hand pressure on
the walker, until I get to the point I’m just barely resting my fingers on it.
Oh, and I’m to take up exercises again which I got out of the habit of over
Christmas and never got back into. I promise to be a good camper.
The big good news
out of this: he thinks I’m doing well enough that he doesn’t want to see me for
a year. When I said I was embarrassed because most hip patients walk so soon
after surgery, he said to forget it. My hip problem was one of a kind, and I
shouldn’t compare myself to others. Good advice about hips and a lot of life.
So tonight, I’m
working, with the TV on mute while Mr. Trump makes a speech. With the sound off
and glancing occasionally at his facial expressions, I think he’s almost
coquettish. But all those people who jump to their feet in applause frustrate
me. I of course find less to applaud with this man than previous presidents,
but it’s always been an irritation. I’m keeping it on because I want to hear
Joe Kennedy’s response. As for having to look at Pence and Ryan sitting behind
the president, don’t even go there….
The Burtons have
all gone to the rodeo tonight. Our annual family rodeo weekend kind of fell
apart this year, so they went so that Jacob would get one night at the rodeo. I’ve
worked, gotten a lot done, napped, and eaten smoked salmon for supper—how decadent.
Sophie and I are enjoying our quiet evening at home. Well, at least I am, and I’m
being bold enough to speak for her.
Eye surgery day
after tomorrow, but then I’ll have all the major stuff behind me—knock on wood.
Yes, I’m anxious about the eye business, but I keep telling myself it will be
Friday before I know it and it will be over and done with. I’m not afraid of
the surgery. I’m afraid of being anxious about being anxious. Three of my four
children will be here, either for the surgery or sometime that day, so that’s a
cheering thought.
In my list of
things I’ve done and good things that have happened to me in yesterday’s post,
I left out health matters. But tonight and always I am grateful for the health
I have and the care I have gotten for major problems. I think back to just over
a year ago and what pain I had from my hip, and I feel like a new person.
This “new” person is
getting sleepy. Hope the orange man doesn’t go on too long and Joe Kennedy
comes on soon. ‘Night all.
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