For the past couple of days, I’ve been living the life of a house cat. I get up and wander around the house with my walker and then I lie down and fall asleep for a while. I repeat this throughout the day and night. I’ve never had a cat, so I’m not sure that this is a good analogy. I suspect that house cats do a lot more than I’m doing. Anyway, I think I’m gradually spending more time awake and less time asleep during the day.
Yesterday, my physiotherapist, Claude, came to visit. She asked me a lot of questions, measured various angles on my body, and put me through a series of exercises. She spent an hour and a half with me, and I felt quite encouraged by the end of of our session. Naturally, I was exhausted and went to sleep again immediately after she left.
My friend and neighbour, Steve, dropped over for a visit in the afternoon and brought a couple of beers. I explained that I didn’t really want to mix beer with the pain pills I’d been taking, so we had water instead. We sat outside in the sun and chatted for a while. Naturally, I was exhausted after that and fell asleep.
In the evening our dear neighbour, Theodora, visited and brought me a Dutch Treat. When I say “Dutch Treat” I don’t mean that I had to pay for half of it. It was a package of special cookies from Holland. After Theo’s visit, I was exhausted and fell asleep again. That was pretty much my day.
Today I stopped taking the pain pills. The pain isn’t much worse, and I’m feeling much clearer in the head. I’m hoping I’ll be able to stay off the pills now. I had a new nurse come to see me today. Nurse Sylvie was a fast worker. She had the old dressing ripped off and the new one on in minutes. Sylvie was impressed by my incision–not by its size this time, but by its beauty. Several times she mentioned how beautiful it was. I think she was referring to the craftsmanship of the surgeon. I’m glad that everyone seems to admire his work and I will pass on the complements to Dr. Richards when I see him.
I expect that my recovery will be gradual from here on in. The dramatic part is over. I’ll have to think of something meaningful to do and to write about for the remainder of my recovery time, but for now I’ll live the life of a house cat.
Ron's Hip Adventure 
If you feel a growing compulsion to hang around the local sandbox I entreat you to resist. This cat thing can be taken to extremes.
LikeLike
Thank you for cautioning me, Holly. As you know, I have a tendency of taking analogies too far.
LikeLike
Sylvie has changed my dressing a few times as well and she is indeed fast and efficient. She is also super when it comes to taking blood. The CLSC staff are caring and competent.
LikeLike
I agree, Maggie, about the CLSC. The care that they’ve given me has been amazing. The nurses and physiotherapists who come to visit me are patient, encouraging, and caring. They’re only a phone call away, and it’s so nice to not be sitting in hospital waiting rooms.
LikeLike
I love not being in waiting rooms. For a pleasant viewing experience on Netflix watch Selfridges
LikeLike
Just logged in today and read all your postings. I am very happy to see that your hip replacement surgery went well … great news Ron. As for the blog, I think it is hilarious … just love it. You definitely have a natural sense of humor, transparency and positive way of viewing life that is very uplifting and welcoming. Continued success with your recovery.
LikeLike
You’ve pretty much nailed the cat thing, Ron. As you know, I have a cat — or, rather, a cat has me — and you’ve accurately described his life. When you’re ready to start exercising again, Corinne can borrow my laser. Once you’ve chased a red dot around the room a few times, and leapt up the wall over and over again for several minutes, you’ll be ready for your next nap. It seems to be a very satisfying way of life — one filled with meaning.
LikeLike
John, thank you so much for sharing that. I do remember now that the cat who lives with you seems to live a happy and meaningful life.
LikeLike
For Corinne, a note on meals and cats.
You’ve served Ron’s favourite dish. Ron approaches it with extreme caution, sniffs both air and food, recoils in horror, glares at you in shock, stalks off in high dudgeon.
And later polishes it off with gusto.
Lynne
LikeLike
It’s like you’re living in Room. Read the book.
LikeLike
I once had a Siamese cat named Whiskey. So shy that when visiters came she would run up the living room curtain, sit on the rod and hiss if anyone other than me dared approach her. Some house cat!
Stay away from the curtains Ron. Try climbing the walls instead. Lol
LikeLike
I think you pretty much nailed the life of the House Cat. However, you did not mention how you feel about getting belly rubs!?
Glad to hear you are on the mend! Sending energy from afar, Julie
LikeLike
Great to hear from you, Julie! I do enjoy a belly rub. I sometimes assume a posture that I hope will encourage one, but this strategy seldom works for me, and I may need to work on it. I’ve been enjoying your blog, and I must say that your life in Qatar seems a bit more exciting than my life of a house cat.
LikeLike