Home and Healing

I’ve not only arrived home which happened Thursday thanks to the rapid expedition of the wound vac, but I’ve also had my appointment with my doctor Friday for our first post op[eration] look at my arm. To our relief, the skin graft looks as it should, pink in color and bonded securely to my arm. Being the realist that I am, I have to recognize a small area in the center of my arm about the size of a quarter that could be (according to the doc) a problem, but if it is one, it is minor and can be addressed in due time. There are a couple of Triton Photos that should handle the remaining details.

It is great to be home once again and with fingers crossed and healing as planned, I’ll be back to normal in a relatively short time. Currently the worst drawback is the pain. My leg hurts from where they harvested the skin, but it really hurts when I stand up and blood rushes into it, and that’s a strong second of course to jumping out of bed which registers somewhere close to the that scene in the movie, Misery, with the large mallet, wooden blocks, and homeboy's ankles.

I've been given a fairly specific list of hand exercises to perform. They involve both the passive extension of my fingers and the passive curling if them into a fist. Passive bending and stretching means using the other hand to do the movement for the hand your working. Although timely and a bit painful to complete, getting the joints stretched properly is the first step to having a hand that functions as more than a paperweight.

I’ve been sleeping well; steady through the night, with a couple of naps each day. The hardest part about sleeping or relaxing on the couch is the anticipation of the pain. If only I could sleep like my lovely bride in te photo from the previous post during a slightly hectic time like having a nurse man-handle your bloody thigh.

I'll come back and finish later...narcolepsy…narcotics...i'm sleepy.

Well, I've napped and had a bite. I believe this post is complete. My next appointment is Wednesday at Duke with my surgeon and my physical therapists.

Until then...I'll leave you with the funny thought that the people at HBO forbid my wearing the pajama shorts in the picture above to treatments an account of the great enormity of crusted blood on my thigh. I thought it looked cool to have bloody PJ's...guess not.