HOSPITAL STAY? Closet salvation before you go

 Will your closets and cabinets leave you helpless when you get home? Or just frustrate you? . . .


If you've been in a lot of pain, you probably didn't make many changes to  closets or kitchen cabinets, or the rest of home to save wear and tear on your spine or leg or . . . Someone may have "helped" by handing you things or lifting them.  But the game for me is:  How soon can I be independent?

Like some of you, I was diagnosed two years before surgery was inevitable.   I'm sure I was careless.  I did make an effort not to twist at the waist, and I had slip-on shoes that I just kept on the floor so I didn't have to reach down.  But I did bend and reach for other things too often.

                            Getting to the hints
After the emergency trip to the hospital last July, I kept one pan and four dishes on the counter top to avoid bending. In the market, people would usually get bulky things I needed off the bottom shelf.  I bought a lot of prepared food from the salad bar in my favorite market.  Other days I took my walker and walked to the corner upscale market; they put a bag on each handle of the walker.  But when I got home, I was limited to the top two shelves in my folding four-shelf unit.  Can you get one delivered? 

Then came surgery.  Since then,  I regret every bend I made after diagnosis.  And I regret years of lousy posture. 

 I remember some things I did for arthritic storage clients, and cabinet plans I drew for chair users.   The bottom line is:  the closer the shelf is to your waist or armpit, the safer, even for some chair users.  You may find some things must be kept in the kitchen or pantry, wherever you can reach.

                                             Shoes and safety
If you wear shoes that lace, a shelf at waist height (can someone put one in for you?) for everyday walking shoes really beats trying to lift one shoe at a time with the "grabber."  (If the hospital did not order a grabber for you, you can order one on line and insist that the delivery person ring the doorbell, not throw the box on the step.)  If no reasonable shelf is available anywhere, remember you are healing and you deserve cooperation, so keep your walking shoes on the bed or the sofa arm or wherever you can reach safely.  I don't have the pedicure thing down pat yet.

                                           Danger at night
Rather than rummage in the closet or on a shelf, at night I rolled a desk chair to the bed for phone, flashlight, water bottle, ear plugs, and acetamenophen.  The walker (later cane) was handy at the foot of the bed for bathroom trips.  And NO barefoot trips to anywhere. 

More later if I think of it . . .


 
  

SPINE SURGERY fall prevention at home

Protecting yourself when you get home:  This is my newer, more intellignet plan.

Going to the bathroom and going to the bathroom at night: 
How much medicine at night?  Minimum
I don't lock the bathroom door
I don't take any medicine that ever made me wonky even for an instant
Take my cane at night even if I rarely use it by day
Take the phone with me

SPINE FUSION - A Cane? Never

Four speed, five speeds, cane?  I was never, never going to have a cane.  But the doctor repeatedly said Walk.  Then the spine didn't get well on its own, and my brake pedal leg was not reliable.  Didn't dare drive.  The walker was about as elegant as a donkey, and as much trouble. 

After surgery, the cane would let me out of the courtyard and over to a friend in a waiting car.   I did the math. 

It's industrial looking and falls on the floor too often, but it works for me.

SPINE FUSION - after the worst, my resolutions

Since I fell last week, I haven't been feeling great.  Scary. X-rays yesterday; don't know if they'll get them to my CA surgeon by tomorrow afternoon.

Meantime:
I keep repeating that my stomach (holding it in) is my bandage
I take my cane everywhere, which wasn't always necessary before
I don't even cross my room at night without the cane
Calcium w magnesium is on my shopping list for today or Friday
I even took a vitamin pill
And I check my posture even at the keyboard - not easy when I'm concentrating hard

Yes, you say I should have been doing it this way all the time
Yes, you would never be careless
Yes, I admit I haven't conquered a lifetime of slouching; but what an incentive a fall can be

SPINE FUSION the thing I feared happens

What I feared most happened:  I fell the other night, just into the fifth month of recovery.  Scary.  I could get up, but didn't  want to fall again, so I crawled back to my room and into bed. 

The next morning I left a message at the surgeon's office.  Later in the day, I e-mailed him, and he sent back that if it still hurt Monday, I should have an x-ray and send it to him.  I felt good the first couple of days, Monday not so good:  leg pain that I associate with my spine.

This morning, I'm waiting to hear from my local MD that the x-ray order from the surgeon is here. 

Why is it more scary waiting for the x-ray than after the fall?   Maybe I was relieved that I was so comfortable.  Maybe I was hiding from the idea of danger then. I know I neglected this blog.

Why do I tend to expect the worst?  I'm not a doctor.  The x-ray may find me in pretty good shape.  Maybe.

Later:  my renewed resolutions for taking care of this spine.

SPINAL FUSION in your near future

 
Did you just say yes to fusion surgery?  How do you feel?

Did your surgeon answer all your questions?  Or, like me, were you too stunned to know what to ask?  He asked me:  If you think the walker is a pain, how would you like a wheelchair?  Good selling point.  I wanted to be well! 

He said the surgery would probably have to be done before Christmas.  So I decided to go ahead and schedule.  It was a relief to have the decision made.

I don't think I asked anything, just agreed to the date they announced.  That date was to be forgotten and changed until the very last day. 

They gave me a list of post-op do-and-don't that promptly disappeared in the mountain of paperwork from the recent hospital visits for pain injections and so on. 

WHAT I SHOULD HAVE ASKED: 

-Will I wake up in horrible pain?  (I didn't.)

-What will I be able to do the next day? 

-Will I be wearing a brace?  When?  For how long?

-Will I be able to take a shower?

-What clothes do I take?  I didn't know that I would be wearing a brace right away.  I had almost no elastic waist clothes.  At the last minute a friend took me out to buy some robes and slippers that were never used.

-How long will I be in the hospital?  (It's good that I didn't ask that one - the hospital stay was MUCH shorter than I hoped or expected.  (Four days.) 

-How long will I be in the nursing home?

-At the last minute I remembered the nurse who asked: why a nursing home --  why not rehab?  I asked the doctor again about rehab and learned that I could get at least a short stay at such a facility.  I wanted to move forward with getting well.

-What will I be able to do when I get home?  (Since I live alone, that was going to be a big concern.)

-Will I need a visiting nurse or anyone like that?  (The surgeon knew of a service that sent a home nurse and a home Physical Therapist.)

-What will the social worker do for me?  (In my case, that would have been useless. The social worker I saw at rehab just wasted my time, though someone at rehab did help my daughter to get home help for me.)

I'm probably forgetting some questions, but my point is:

ASK.  The sillier you think your question is, the more you may need to ask.  Asking is NOT being a sissy.  Asking (within reason) is not inconveniencing the doctor.  Pick up the phone and get answers.   I wish you well!






P
Back at home, some people were still trying to convince me not to have the surgery. 

My religious adviser said there's no better way to get people to worry than to tell them not to worry.  Someone will tell you not to worry.  Give them some caramels to quiet them. 

My pal Tom drove me to the surgeon's office the day I saw the most recent xrays and a date was set for surgery.  In traffic on the freeway Tom was quiet and calm.   I asked him to be the person to drive me to the hospital on the big day.  What a difference some people can make-- to help us feel calm and peaceful!  And he never tells me what to do.

You probably have friends who will tell you what to do and who will worry out loud.   A few good coughs may let them know you're about to hang up the phone.  In an extreme case, be braver than I was and just refuse to talk about it. 

Many people insisted I must not have the surgery.  (Even after the nightime ambulance ride in July.)   One of them was WAY too insistent. 

When I came home, they changed and were happy for me.

In the hospital, there may be one nurse who is just right.  Learn her name.  Give her your flowers.  Order her some candy.  Name your cat after her. 
HOW DOES THIS END?

SPINAL FUSION - 4 months into recovery

I had no idea what to expect at four months.  The home nurses and home visit PTs told me the stiffness in the legs would go away.  It comes right back if I sit even a bit too long at this hard chair at the computer.

 Today I walked the whole Logrun Circle and a bit more with the cane - but didn't need the cane. No weakness in the legs. 

I still get very tired sometimes -- especially after a session of re-learning to drive. (And this is in a newer car.)  I haven't driven alone since July because the spine problem really messed with the nerves to my brake pedal leg.  The doctor and that nurse I met in the market both warned me about good days and bad days.

I can get things out of the bottom drawer or out from under the bed by getting down on my knees.  Usually I know I can get back up.  And I always do get back up. 

I get a lot of things out of the dishwasher or washing machine by squatting to avoid bending, and I have real fears of what this is doing to my not-young knees.  The grabber is indispensable to cut down on squatting. 

The last few days I've been able to lace my walking shoes without Herculean effort and without thinking I've done myself damage.

Of course, there's the psychology of looking so old with the cane. . . ego.

Remember:  this is only one person's experience.  Others at four months after fusion may be out chopping wood for all I know. 

I wish you all well.