{"id":681,"date":"2009-01-04T16:53:00","date_gmt":"2009-01-04T21:53:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/sunday-january-4-2009\/"},"modified":"2009-01-04T16:53:00","modified_gmt":"2009-01-04T21:53:00","slug":"sunday-january-4-2009","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/sunday-january-4-2009\/","title":{"rendered":"Sunday January 4, 2009"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"December<\/a> <\/span><\/p>\n

Life at our house is slowly resuming a semblance of normal.  A better word would be functional.  While I was not expecting this to be lunch at McDonalds, I was not exactly prepared for how terrible it would really be.  I think I expected something similar to having your tonsils removed or a c-section.  Funny.  Very funny.  Except that it really wasn’t.  <\/p>\n

I have never in my life seen David Lee in so much pain, not even when he broke his hand.  That first week post-op has become a muddled jumble in my mind of running, running, running — walking close to David Lee every time he got up for the first four days because he was so lightheaded, making sure he at least nibbled on crackers and drank sprite with every dose of percocet because it made him so nauseous, trying in vain to think of something good to eat for one person who is nauseous and not hungry because of pain and another person who is not one bit hungry thanks to stress, getting up at night with a baby who always sleeps through the night but now gets up several times a night thanks to teething or learning to crawl (why do my babies do that waking after crawling thing?) or mommy’s stress level or all three, mucking out nasty puppy bedding straw, answering yet another puppy phone call, running to the pharmacy for more dressing supplies, going to therapy which at first meant getting up at 7 for a 10:30 appointment so I could help everyone get dressed (including David Lee) and returning at 1 and then doing it again and again and again.  Just getting everyone in and out of the car felt like a workout.  For the five days, I didn’t get more then a 2 1\/2 hour stretch of uninterrupted sleep.  \"December<\/a> <\/span><\/p>\n

Then things got better.  The last puppy sold and I felt like a different person.  David Lee’s swelling diminished somewhat and the surgeon switched him to vicodin and started him on antibiotics because things were looking iffy.  He also aspirated 50 ccs of bloody fluid off his knee which helped him get through that day of therapy.  By the next, the swelling was as bad as ever.  He did quit looking like an 80 yr old man with the drug switch though and started interacting with us much more like his usual self.  Suddenly I felt as though I had some emotional support.  Like, he at least talked<\/em> to me again.  Steve and Christy came two days before Christmas and oh, how wonderful that was.  By day 7, David Lee could shower solo as long as I could help him in and out.  By day 10, he was on his own except for driving.  One day shy of two weeks he ditched the crutches for the most part.  I couldn’t believe it when he came around the corner and said, “Hey, sweetie, look!”  <\/p>\n

<\/a>\"December<\/a> <\/span>\"December<\/a> <\/span>\"December<\/a> <\/span>\"December<\/a> <\/span>\"December<\/a> <\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

In the last three days, we’ve started having fun.  We get to sleep in and stay up later then normal.  David Lee is working on office work and camp related things some from home inbetween therapy and helping me with the boys some.  Interestingly enough, therapy helps with the pain almost as much as narcotics now that he’s further out from surgery.  One of his friends from work is a professional bike trainer and offered David Lee the use of his stationary bike.  We’ve been going through the therapy workout 1-2 times a day at home as much as we can on the inbetween days — 15 minutes of heat, stretches, 10 minutes on the bike, 10 minutes slow walking on the treadmill, 15 minutes of ice.  He always limps less afterwards.  <\/p>\n

<\/a>           <\/span>\"December<\/a>                       <\/span>\"December<\/a>                       <\/span>\"December<\/a> <\/span><\/a> <\/span>            Adam’s three loves: the hat, camoflauge, and airplanes                Liam says, I can do that, too.<\/p>\n

The first time I watched the therapist stretch him I decided it was the male version of a laboring woman in transition.  Just to get his knee close to 90 degrees had David Lee sweating, grimacing, and squeezing bars with his hands.  I watched his thigh muscles spasm in rebellion and knew he must be at an 11 on a pain scale of 1-10.  He’s still not much past a 90 but it’s coming degree by degree.  When he asked the therapist, “how far am I going to have to go?”  Lloyd said, “Oh, you’re heel needs to touch your hip again.”  Oh.<\/p>\n

\"December<\/a> <\/span><\/p>\n

The good news at our house is it’s 2009!  Happy New Year to you all!  I am so excited about having the best year of my life yet.  New Years always feels that way.<\/p>\n

\"December<\/a> <\/span><\/p>\n

The other exciting thing is Liam is crawling.  I’m still in shock as I watch him crawl, get into things, pull himself to his feet, rock with his big toy ball, tumble, roll, and go again.  Adam didn’t crawl til he was 9 months old so this feels like a big surprise.  <\/p>\n

Yikes…I didn’t realize what time it is.  We’re scheduled to go sing at the nursing home tonight.  David Lee overdid it going to church and came home with pitting edema.  It felt a little late in the game to find a replacement so I get to solo parent again.  Wish me well.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Life at our house is slowly resuming a semblance of normal.  A better word would be functional.  While I was not expecting this to be lunch at McDonalds, I was… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-681","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p39ynQ-aZ","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/681","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=681"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/681\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=681"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=681"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=681"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}