Becoming Jabba the Hutt

 I noticed it when I gave myself my Dupixent injection this week in my round little belly. Stretch marks. I verified it this week when I got on the scales and found that sitting around on my fanny for a month and eating  delicious meals had caused me to gain five pounds. Huh.

 Jabba at his most glorious

For those who aren’t familiar with Jabba the Hut, heis a large, fat, loathsome, larval creature from Star Wars. For those of you who are Pride and Prejudice fans, he is the Star Wars character cast as Mr. Collins in my son’s AP English group’s Star Wars video adaptation of the novel. If you’re not a Pride and Prejudice fan, well, who even are you? But I digress.

"Excellent Boiled Potatoes!"

Turns out that recovering from a total knee repair requires movement, medicine,motivation, but also lots of sitting around and lots of sleepless nights. And naps.   I have read 17 books in the last month. And devoured umpteen delicious meals. Hence calories in  greater than calories out.

I defend the pleasure of these meals because knee replacements aren't for sissies. Yes, I know, it’s as commonplace as pedicures these days. Everyone has had one or two. I’m astonished by the folks coming out of the woodwork that have had one. But honestly they  major pains in the…well you get it.

In my pre-surgery glory

My surgeon is fabulous. I’m grateful I learned of him from my neighbor. He did both of Coach K’s knees and you know they got that guy the best of the best. I love Dr. B. He’s just the cream of the crop. When Dr. B. walks in the room, you see a man who is good at his job – he’s doesn’t swagger, but he exudes the kind of confidence you want to see in someone who is going to saw off the ends of two bones in your body and then install a metal replacement.

My Hero! 

                        
Somehow I managed to avoid thinking about what was actually happening to my knee during my first knee replacement surgery last year, despite knowing that the damage from multiple incidents (including my one and only kickboxing class) had left my knee looking like a gnawed-up chicken leg. I just couldn’t think about it, similar to when I close my eyes when I give blood. If I didn’t see it, it didn’t happen. Reminds me of my Dad when he got his bypass surgery. The night before, my nurse sister, gleefully described how they would split open his breastbone to get at his heart.  The confident man I knew and loved turned white as a ghost and accused her of teasing him.  But again, I digress.

My sister upon her graduation from Rex School of Nursing 

Dad, years after his bypass surgery 

So anyway, I love the surgeon who did my knee. I have him tucked up firmly on a pedestal next to my favorite vetinarian and Jane Austen. His tourniquet time was forty minutes by which I mean the man sawed off my old knee, drilled holes, glued, fitted and tested my new knee. I am unable to give myself a pedicure in that amount of time. God bless him.

So all that is to say that I had the best of the best when it came to my outpatient surgery. But hear me, recovery is a bitch. Like labor, you have to go through it to get to the other side. You must do your PT, starting day one, which isn’t really so bad, but then all the great pain meds and the nerve block wear off and you find yourself with your foot elevated “toes above nose”, a machine that constantly pumps cold water around your knee humming nearby, assorted pain meds that may or may not help. a walker and a healthy dose of pain. Days of misery until you see the glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. Two weeks later and you can see your life slowly returning. But in the meantime you  count the hours by how many times you’ve done your PT and when you can take your Tylenol again.

So yes, like Jabba the Hutt, you feel like a giant larval being, or maybe a caterpillar in a cocoon. Except for me, when I am just now coming out of the cocoon, I’m still a caterpillar – one that weighs 5 pounds more. And yep, I don’t regret a bite. Yes, I’m going to have to get these fancy new knees taking walks and start enjoying lighter fare, but every bite of comfort food, truly comforted me just as every turn of a page joyfully distracted me.

Really, ChatGPT? 

 And I’m grateful, so grateful for my church, who offered prayers for my healing, my extraordinary surgeon and his team who put in the work, my fabulous PT who is cheerleading and leading me through recovery, my hub who has stepped, fetched, fed, and encouraged, my girlfriends who have visited, fed, and driven me around, my grandson who has touched my knee with his magic finger which has clearly aided my recovery, and the Durham County Library Libby App which has kept my head in the clouds. And of course, I thank God every step of the way. (See what I did there?)

"Touch it" 

So yes, I’m making real strides (And there?) on my healing journey. And I’m about ready to try to shed the five pounds I gained after Miss Fancy (my new right knee) and the other five pounds I gained after Miss Priss (left knee) joined me. So hopefully I won’t feel like Jabba much longer. But don’t expect a gold bikini.

Not my aspirational goal

Miss Priss and Miss Fancy - Thank you for your service!