Or is it Day 20? All I know is that I'm almost exactly three weeks to the minute of getting out of surgery.
The weird part is... I still don't actually know what happened. Well, I know what happened, but I don't know the technical terms. Which makes things hard to Google.
Last week when I was getting ready for my follow-up appointment (and hoping I was the world's best healer and would be sent home without a cast), I jokingly put up a picture on Facebook of a knee scooter... with a basket.I mean... I'd gotten around my condo fine with my crutches and rolling desk chair, but to get around work?
Then a week of crutches... being stuck in my office without being able to even get to the main lunch room... every time I went somewhere I needed to crutch (I don't think Health and Safety would've appreciated me flying up and down the halls in my desk chair). The worst was going to get a massage to work out the links in my shoulders, and realizing that, although we have massage therapists at work, that they are at best a 1.5 km round trip from my office. By the time I got back to my office the benefits of my massage were long gone.
Not to mention the crutches have given me a rash where they hit the underwire of my bra. I'm all sorts of sexy over here.
So... this happened... Friday afternoon. And it's been my saviour.
Now I just have to swallow my pride a bit while zooming around - being mobile is far without pain more important than vanity.