So...
1. I have given my two pints of blood
2. I have had all my pre-op appointments. Yesterday I sat through the class you take for hip replacements--me and about 30 other folks: cranky, anxious, talkative, big haired, polystered, hyper, loud senior citizens. I sort-of freaked when two of them right in front of me started discussing the changes in texture and color of their poop now that they've been on the iron pills we all take prior to surgery.
3. I have decided that I will go with the spinal block instead of general anesthesia. This is a hard one for me--I am petrified of needles, and the thought of this particular procedure really pushes on me. But it is easier on the body, easier to recover from and the one my doctor recommends.
4. I have my hip replacement tool kit. It includes: a picker-upper thing because for somewhere between 4 months and a year, I will not be able to bend over more than 90 degrees. A 3 foot shoe horn. A sock putter-on. An extra long-handled sponge for the shower. A toilet gizmo that raises the toilet seat. Elastic shoe laces.
3. Three books and a knitting project are out and ready to be packed.
You'd think I'm good to go right? Well maybe. Last night, I ran a temperature of 102. I seem to have caught the same bug as my little bit has been struggling with. I feel a lot better today and I am taking a calculated risk and waiting to say anything until Monday morning, hoping I'll be well enough to have the surgery. But back to my little one: she's had a relapse and this morning her temperature was up to 104. Her doctor say that if she is not hugely better on Monday, she needs to be hospitalized. How's the spouse-man doing? A lovely combination of homicidal and suicidal...
