Heard you’re in a bit of a stew with the ol’ ball ‘n chain. Sorry, dude– stuff happens, you know?
One time my wife got angry with me because I had put a thin coat of Vaseline on the kitchen floor before this big party we were hosting. I did it because Vaseline makes hard woods shine like glass. Well, our clumsy friends slid all over the place and a couple of them fell and broke some bones and smacked their noggins on countertops.
Fortunately, Vaseline protects against blood spills and stains.
I had to haul people to the emergency room and everything– clumsy idiots! Long story short, I took the rap for what she called “the world’s stupidest idea” and my ZIP Code was the doghouse for a good stretch. Jeesh, louise!
All of this is to relate to you that marriage is sometimes tougher than ten year old Sugar Babies, and like a marital tussle, you might end up with a chipped tooth, or two.
I guess your wife got upset because you apparently were out of town and ‘forgot’ you were married and had relations with ‘temporary wives.’ Bad idea, buddy. Most wives don’t allow their hubbies to engage in hanky or panky. No wonder your wife went cattywonkers.
Now your high-paying sponsors are dropping like flies in a fog of Black Flag, you’re off the golf circuit and a different new Tiger scandal pops up in the press daily. You’ve gone from the world’s first billionaire athlete to King Cad-Schmuckyton.
It’s like some great Shakespeare tragedy. Sad. So sad, so very sad.
So, what I was wondering is since you’re not doing much of anything anyway, would you mind giving me some golf lessons for $5 an hour?
Let me know. Thanks, dude.I could have the answer to your prayers…
Oh, they’re cute doing just about anything, EXCEPT SMOKING!Right now, millions of chimps and monkeys are smoking themselves to death.
Furry friends with bad cases of jangly nerves, dieting monkeys, post-coital chimps– they all need our help. They can’t resist the seductive allure of nicotine, but we can help give them a fighting chance by being strong when they are weak.
Working together, we can raise the funds necessary to supply these chimps and monkeys nicotine gum and nicotine patches. These are the tools they need to build a foundation of willpower and get the tobacco monkeys off their backs.
Won’t you help? Send money (a little more than you can afford) to me c/o The Lint Screen and together we’ll help monkeys and chimps evolve some healthier habits.
One month after my total hip replacement, the surgeon says I’m good to drive and begin easing my way back into life. I had my new hip X-rayed and everything is just where it needs to be. The doc came in and checked me for flexibility. He stretched my new hip leg straight out and flat on the table. It hurt. It will be a long time before I’m able to do my Fab Four leaping exercises.
He took my leg and bent it this way and that, inside and out, round and about like it was a strand of pretzel dough wishing to be twisted. It hurt, too. “You need some physical therapy,” he said (the unsaid meaning was clear: My job here is done.) “You need to stretch and work on your flexibility,” he said like a judge pronouncing his sentence.
So I do, and so I will. I remember that after my first hip replacement there was the getting over surgery stage, and then there was the getting over physical therapy stage. It takes lots of physical therapy to walk pain-free with the walking again.
My doc gave me a prescription for physical therapy (you don’t want to be buying your physical therapy on the streets). I asked him for more sleeping pills. “Why are you having trouble sleeping?” he asked with no trace of irony. “Pain and discomfort,” I said. The doc wrote me scripts for mild muscle relaxers and a small stash of sleeping pills. “Try the muscle relaxer to help you sleep,” he said, “if that doesn’t work, take Ambien.” My doc isn’t a fan of sleeping pills for pain management. I read the precaution sheet that came with the Ambien and he may be right. Here are some of the official precautions from the drug company that makes it: – do not take Ambien if you are allergic to anything in it
– a common side effect is drowsiness
– After taking Ambien, you may get up out of bed while not being fully awake and do an activity that you do not know you are doing. The next morning, you may not remember that you did anything during the night. Reported activities include driving a car (“sleep-driving”), making and eating food, talking on the phone, having sex and sleep-walking
I don’t know if Ambien is a sleep wonder drug or the ultimate alibi pill. Last night I took a muscle relaxer and slept great. I’m getting this Ambien monkey off my back (goodness knows what he’s doing back there in the middle of the night– driving, eating, talking on the phone, having sex).A portion of my medical trophies wall I will carry on, do what I’m told to do and slowly regain strength, stamina, a dash of flexibility and perhaps even a nice straight walking gait without a whisper of a limp.
I will continue my practice of keeping a trophy for every doctor visit. When I am kept waiting and waiting and waiting in the doctor’s office, I take a latex glove as a souvenir of my visit and post it in my office on the wall. I have quite a glove collection (I also have eyepatches from various glaucoma field of vision tests).
My wall of gloves and eyepatches are a constant reminder to work to stay healthy. I have enough souvenirs of medical visits, thank you, and I’ve unfortunately witnessed how fragile good health can be.
I’ve given two eulogies and seen two of my very best friends laid to rest way before their time. Some things we can avoid, others we cannot. Control what you can and appreciate what you have because when disease calls your number, there’s no debating. That’s the uncertainty of life– living with the certainty of our mortality.
My advice is simple: work to squeeze more years, enjoy all the days you have and spread some good cheer along the way.
I hope this 17-part total hip replacement journey has been informative and entertaining. If my pain has brought you some reading pleasure, I’ve done my job. If reading these entries makes you yearn to replace your healthy hip with a brand new titanium one, well, I may have done my job a little too well.
Medical Science has made me better, eventually. Tomorrow I go to the surgeon for my follow-up visit.
It’s been almost a month since my total hip replacement. If all goes well with my examination, I should get the green light for driving– meaning no matter what color the traffic signal is, I can GO. Your ‘ordinary traffic laws’ do not apply. I think that’s how it goes.
The point is, I should be able to drive again, provided I sit on a pillow of some folded blankets to keep the hip elevated. Since it’s my left hip that was replaced, it won’t come into the driving equation too often. I’m right-footed.
I should be able to ease slowly back into the workaday world with the ably-jointed.
I have been a good boy, doing my physical therapy exercises, getting rest, getting somewhat stronger and doing these postings for therapeutic purposes. My hope is that my pain = your reading pleasure.
Do I recommend hip replacements? No, not if you don’t need them. Recovery is tough. Play Parcheesi instead.
But if you are troubled with constant arthritic pain, if your life is one of pain management, well, something needs to give. And a bum hip seems to be the ante.
I’m curious to see what my medic says. Onward I limp!
I came home, was on my walker for one week and showed enough progress with forward motion that my physical therapist graduated me to the cane. I did not trick out the cane tip with a tennis ball since that would be dangerous. Yes, it’d look cool, but…I’m like House, without the bothersome brains.My walker seems angry with me. It sits in the corner and sulks. The tennis balls shine bright yellow and beckon to be driven. Vroom! But there is no going back– I am a cane man, now. I still use my walker for support during many of my physical therapy exercises, but for walking, I don’t need my pimped-out walker. I walk like a big boy now! A big boy with a very pronounced limp.
I have not shaved since my surgery. A salt and pepper beard is coming in nicely; more salty than I’d like, but facial hair has a mind all its own. With my beard, my cane, my limp and my somewhat sour disposition brought on by pain, I am like Dr. Gregory House. Except unlike House, I don’t have a genius intellect. Why can’t life be more fair?
17 days after surgery, the visiting nurse comes to remove my 33-surgical staples. I’m not sure how she does this, but I don’t think it’s with an office staple remover. The surgical staple removal is a little discomforting, but not really painful. The nurse tells me that my scar looks good and applies eight adhesive scar-binder strips over the wound. These are temporary and will fall off naturally after a week or so.
I’m cutting back on the goof. Weaning myself off painkillers isn’t difficult. I don’t have to get all Sid Vicious or anything. As the wound heals, there is less pain. With less pain, there is less need for painkillers. Night without Ambien sucks.The one pill I won’t stop in the near term is my sleeping pill. I tried one night to go without it, but after a few hours of uncomfortably tossing and turning, I gobbled an Ambien and rode it to SleepyTown.
Although I don’t necessarily feel rested after my three short shifts of sleep in two different locations, I know my body MUST have sleep to repair– it’s been through a lot.
I am on the mend. It’s getting better but it’s slow going. The swelling has gone down, the bruising is healing from a dark brown to a shade of light tan and my regimen of hip- strengthening exercises are getting somewhat easier to do. My physical therapist adds more exercises to the list. I curse her and thank her. She knows best.
The road to recovery is long, and if I could, I’d hitchhike. Unfortunately there are no shortcuts. What a pity there aren’t.
