The left one is the right one

We're at the hospital by 7.30 this morning. I sit by her bed for half an hour or so and then it's all systems go.  

She's first on the list - so there's a flurry of activity; she's measured for a pair of crutches and then the surgeon draws an arrow to indicate the correct knee. Nurses come and take various readings and finally, the anaesthetist. Then a moments calm and she puts on her gown.  Time for me to go. 

I find it quite hard to leave her like this. She's making jokes but I can tell that's not how she feels inside. She mentions to those that ask, that it’s been 37 years (when Dan was born) since she was last in hospital. This produces gasps of astonishment and lifts the mood. A bit.

I get a text message just before midday.  “All done X”  She says she’s sitting up in bed having tea and biscuits.

I go back to the hospital around 2.00pm.  The physiotherapist pays a visit and AM manages to get out of bed.  A short walk and then a much needed lie down.  Amazing.

She can do this just a few hours after surgery, because she had an epidural rather than a general anaesthetic. Recovery is quicker.  Because she needs to get the new knee moving ASAP.

The disadvantage of the epidural is that she’s awake during the whole procedure.  And while she felt nothing, she heard everything. The sawing and hammering.  Especially the hammering.

Too much excitement for one day and I leave her to much needed rest. As I’m driving home it dawns on me that’s she’s going to have to go through this again at some point, for the other knee.  But we’ll worry about that another time.

In the meantime I have an evening of TV to sort out.  I fire up the recorder and settle back with a few documentaries — planes, boats and trains.  And some old cowboy films.