Post-op Day 2

I wake at 2:30am. I really need to go to the bathroom. I think "I can do this--there is my walker. I have been taught all my lessons. I know exactly what to do." I lift myself out of bed and to my surprise an alarm sounds like I am escaped prisoner. Apparently, I am not allowed to get up on my own. I make it to the toilet after a nurse comes to supervise me and limp my way back into bed. I fall back asleep only to wake up again at 4 am. I don't understand it. I feel like, without kids, I should at least be able to sleep in a bit, but the pain in the leg, the squeeze pillows and the noise from the hospital are not very soporific. I move to the chair and start my day with blood work. Group PT is next. On my way to the class, I am handed crutches. These are sooo much better than the walker. I can move at a reasonable pace and while I am still not robbing a bank anytime soon, I am more chicken and less turtle like. The exercises are the same as the day before. I am ready to go home. After a group lunch, I get to do just that. I am discharged with my crutches. My husband, the saint that he is, makes a couple of trips to the car with my stuff. How did I collect so many things in a few days? Must be a woman thing. I actually packed make-up--like I thought I would care enough to put make up on. Notice that in all of this I have never mentioned a shower--there is no mention, because it never crossed my mind to even try. The worst part of going home was getting in the van. Owww…might need more occupational therapy.