Category: Fundamentals

This post is one that I am bringing back as an entry in the Sunday Stills Challenge, issued weekly by Terri Webster Schrandt, on her very popular blog, Second Wind Leisure.  This Week’s topic is Waterworld and is a subject we have featured often on Easin’ Along. I hope Terri’s readers enjoy it.

By the time this week’s (short) post is published, I will be well into the third week of recovery from knee replacement surgery. Although things are going well, I admit to being somewhat of a “grump-a-potamus.” I can’t exactly tell you what a grump-a-potamus is, or what one looks like, but I am certain that the enlightened, highly intelligent readership of Easin’ Along gets the idea. Simply put, I haven’t been my usual, loveable, fuzzball self. Something needed to change or else I was going to have to hide all of the sharp objects within reach.

Earlier this week, I took a break from my crossword puzzle to read an article on the positive effects that living near water can have on one’s attitude. The article mentioned that, while green-space (parks, forests, hiking trails, etc.) can and do have a positive effect on one’s health, blue-space or living near water (oceans, lakes, creeks, and even fountains), is far superior for what it can do to improve health and happiness. Suddenly, a light came on inside of my Tylenol-filled head…I needed some water, and I needed it right then.

I admit that water settings give me great pleasure and I have written about this before. We always search out campsites near water for our travels.  Helen prefers the beach and the waves, whereas I find myself partial to creeks and streams—I don’t like sand in my stuff—but, if it’s wet, it’s good.

For thirteen wonderful years, Helen and I lived on a home we built above the Tennessee River. During that time, whenever I found myself in of need an “attitude adjustment”, all I had to do was get a glimpse of the water flowing behind our house and most of my cares and concerns would either float away or at least move to the back of my mind. I no longer have that view, but, if water was good for me then, it had to be good for me now.

My doctor’s orders currently prevent me from driving to places with a view of the water, but, after reading the article mentioned above, I found a cure for the grumps that I want to share. I searched through some picture files and found a folder filled with pictures of water scenes from the past four years of Easin’ Along the retired road and another folder containing a picture of our lake view (above). These pictures were as good as handing me a cocktail (something else that I’m supposed to avoid). I received a much-needed lift from these scenes…maybe they’ll brighten your day as well. At the bottom of this post is a video I made over a year ago, I hope you enjoy it in its re-run. Now, let’s go Easin’ Along through some blue space together.

 

 

What is a grump-a-potamus anyway?

Easin’ Along is standing (definitely not kneeling) on the sideline this week after total knee replacement surgery on Tuesday.  Everything went extremely well, but I’m a little foggy right now. We’ll save the comments for an update next week. Thanks to all who took the time to send prayers and best wishes. Thanks also to Dr. Michael Holt and the remarkable staff at the University of Tennessee Medical Center who perform miracles every day. You’re the Best.

Finally, to Helen, the person I lean on for everything…I’m gonna lean a little heavier for a while but, as you’ve proven time and again, you’re more than up to the task. I owe you…big time. A simple “thank you” isn’t enough. 

On Tuesday morning, Helen checked in to the University of Tennessee Medical Center for hip replacement surgery.  Readers may recall that one year ago, Helen replaced one of her knees in March and another knee in June.  For those procedures, we had to check-in at 5:30, but, to demonstrate her true love and devotion for her dear husband, she scheduled this visit for 9:30 so I had time for coffee.

Although we would rather be doing anything besides face another surgery, we both agree that, if this has to happen, the surgeons and staff at the University of Tennessee hospital are the ones to do it. The care is exceptional, the surgeons are incredibly skilled, and everyone involved from check-in to check-out is efficient, professional, and always greet us with a smile. Check-in took just a matter of minutes before a friendly hospital volunteer walked us to the changing room.

Once in the changing room, Helen was issued a surgery gown, an blue hair net, and, at these prices, a pair of what has to be the most expensive socks on the planet to take home with us. The only thing that has changed since her previous surgery is that the surgery gown is now made cloth instead of blue paper. She held them up for the camera.

Around 10:00 Rachel, an associate minister at our church knocked on the door to visit us.  Rachel came bearing a smile radiant enough to fill the room and offered words of comfort. Two nurses arrived at about the same time to wheel Helen to the pre-op room, but Helen refused to leave until Rachel had time to lead us in prayer. Then Helen was rolled away. “See you later, honey!”  “Thank you Rachel.” We left things in the hands of the surgeon.

After about an hour and a half in the waiting lounge, her surgeon, the same one who performed my hip replacement last year, invited me to join him in a small consultation room. I held my breath for good news.  Helen was his third surgery for that morning and he had the look of someone who needed a break.  The news was all good. Helen did fine and the surgery went well. Thank you again, Rachel…prayer helps.

I grabbed some lunch and went to meet Helen in her hospital room. She wasn’t there! Finally, after about another 30 minutes she came rolling in with a cadre of nurses bringing machines, tubes, trays, and IV’s dangling from poles or attached to her in some way. Helen was awake and smiling broadly (as she always is). So far, so good.

A lab technician soon followed her to the room to begin a round of tests by drawing blood samples. Although Helen came to the room in a good mood, things always change when needles are in the vicinity. Fortunately, she was still a little loopy from the anesthetic and the technician completed her work without incident.

Within about an hour, a physical therapist to assess Helen’s condition and offer a few words on how to regain the strength in her hip and legs. The therapist was very thorough and explained things well enough that even a loopy patient could understand. Next, she helped Helen untangle the jumble of tubes and wires before standing her up for her first steps. Bear in mind, she had her replaced only a few hours earlier. Nevertheless, she was up to the challenge and, assisted by the therapist, walked out to the hall and back to the bed. Modern medicine is something else!

I hung around in the room for a few more hours, but I’m not sure she knew I was there as she drifted off a few times, still under the effects of the anesthetic.  After coming around, she ordered a breakfast meal off of the menu on the room television screen, and allowed me to leave. Ordering that breakfast meal made me hungry.

I returned to the hospital the next morning to learn that she surgeon had already completed his rounds and said she could go home. The only thing left to do was attend a class on post-op procedures about when to take medicines, what exercises offered the most help in recovery, and who to call when or if problems arise.  I attended the class as well and found it to be very informative.

We had no trouble getting her in the front seat of our car and I was amazed at how well she seemed to be doing. We arrived home and she got out of the car and walked in the front door with that smile as bright as ever. We have nothing but great things to say about the experience, but, hopefully, the need for surgery is over…for Helen.  I go in next month for a new knee. Hopefully, that procedure will go as well as this one did and we can resume Easin’ Along very soon. We miss our fifth wheel and the road less traveled.