#I had to spend two nights in hospital because once again anaesthetics are not my friends

[a-luran]

Lads, we made it 🎉

[honeyhenry]

Captain Confusion

A/N: Inspired by this video that makes me weep with its cuteness! I just had to write this okay 🥺🥺🥺 This is in the same universe as Homeward Bound, which happens after this story. Feel free to give it a read after this, if you haven’t already! ALSO should note that the lovely @ohmygoodie​ is my Sy partner in crime and without them this fic would not be made possible :)

Warning: mention of operations/hospitals, and a whole lot of fluff!

It was a simple procedure and so it hadn't worried you too much, other than the usual fears when a loved one is under the knife while in the hands of trained doctors. Sy’s hernia had been authorised for operation only five minutes into the doctor’s appointment you had all but dragged him to, and scheduled for 4 days later. Not really much time to prepare mentally, but you knew it was necessary with your big bear of a man in pain. Despite the painkillers prescribed, he was walking with a limp and groaning in bed for all the wrong reasons.

In the waiting room, you and his Ma kept busy during the 45 minute wait by looking through magazines, talking about how the Captain’s quality of life will improve, and what kind of minor jobs you’ll have him do around the house while he’s recovering as you continue to work.

“I hope the recovery isn’t as long as some people have said. I know for a fact he’ll not want to be cooped up all day. If he’s anything, he’s stubborn” you sigh, knowingly.

Ma smiles, looking at you pointedly, knowing that she is in the presence of the only other soul who knows what is best for her son. “He knows better now that his health is his wealth. He’s got a lot more riding on being well now. After all, it’s not just him he’s gotta be there for anymore.”

“Yeah, I mean I always tell him, he’s not 25 anymore. Or even 30. I’ll need you to back me up, he does anything you say. I’m his equal, you’re his Mom.”

You both laugh a little, hers warm and kind, while yours tinges with the remaining hopeful nerves of an army Captain’s wife. You don’t like not knowing about your Sy, especially since you spent all those years apart, not knowing if he was safe, or even alive. The waiting, in any capacity, is the hardest part.

You’re flipping through a random tabloid magazine, when the surgeon in charge walks through to the waiting room.

“Everything went really well with Captain Syverson. He’s coming to from the anaesthetic and asking for his Ma?”

Ma grins before sucking her teeth between her lips watching as your mouth drops. You both move from the waiting area to follow the surgeon towards where your husband is resting. You speak under your breath, only wanting Sy’s Ma to hear you; “I hope he still remembers how to grovel after this.”

Ma enters the room with you following her, arriving only a couple more corridors along from where you’d last seen him earlier that morning. He may not have asked for you but you were going to see Sy whether he wanted it or not. A grand push of the door allows it to swing open, and suddenly there he is. A little disoriented but has a large dopey smile plastered on his face as soon as he sees his Ma. His heavy head lolls to one side as he rests it on the plush hospital pillow.

“Hey Ma” he groans out as she bends over her large son to give his forehead a kiss, taking his hand in hers. He spends a moment just gazing at her for a while, the love he has for her evident on his face, as she tells him that everything went well, and that he can go home tomorrow.

It’s only after this tender mother and son moment, that he notices you.

“Ma.... why ya bringing a beautiful girl here when I’m like this...oh god I’m not wearing underwear Ma!”

His feeble attempt at trying to cover himself means that you actually end up seeing far more of him than you expected. Nothing you hadn’t seen before, but it definitely hasn't happened in front of his own mother before. The whole situation makes you blush and giggle a little as you try your best to avoid eye contact with Ma. You can only imagine the look on her face, and you don’t want to get any more involved with Sy’s naked form than you need to right now.

Rather than put you and your poor Sy through any further embarrassment, Ma speaks up.

“Oh darlin’, this is y/n. You remember her, right?”

And while he’s listening - or at least pretending to listen to his Ma fussing over him again - he’s just staring at you, gazing in awe as if you were the one to hang the stars in the sky.

“You are.... so pretty” he slurs, making you break out a genuine smile that he mirrors, glad that he was the one to make you look even more pretty.

“Well thanks handsome. How do you feel?” you perch on the edge of the bed and hold his hand. To him, the gesture feels warm and inviting - even if he doesn't know you, he recognises something about you in the comfort that you bring.

“Feel like shit. Oh fuck i said ‘shit’ in front of the lady” he whines again, scrunching his eyes closed as hangs his head in shame. It looks like he might even cry with the realisation that he’s made such a foolish impression of himself. It takes Ma shushing him and making him take a sip of juice from his bedside to calm down, dabbing his face with a cloth when his juice spills from his mouth.

“Oh Logan Daniel Syverson...what did they do to ya?” she lightly scolds as she helps clean up the mess he’s unknowingly created around him. That’s your Sy, a hurricane of mess that somehow fits into order just how he likes it.

You giggle a little more at his shameful expression, before he refocuses, giving you his undivided attention once more.

“How is it that ya know my Ma and we’ve never met? Or have we? ‘Cause I think i’d remember a face like yours” 

“Well...” you start, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear to let him see your entire face, hoping it would jog his memory. As you do so, the ring on your fourth finger glints in the hospital light, and for the first time since you've entered the room, he’s noticed.

“Oh...man...knew a girl like you would be snatched up already. Whoever has the honour of being yours is a very lucky man.” He smiles softly, a wistful look in his eye, while makes you realise that you can’t wait for the drugs to leave his system, you have to remind him who you are and who he is, right this very moment.

“Sy honey... we’re married. You’re my husband, and I’m your wife. I think the drugs are making you more than a bit loopy.”

It’s his turn for his jaw to drop, his eyes are unblinking as he takes in what you’ve just said. He turns sharply - more than his doctor would have probably liked - to his Ma, and then back to you, and then his Ma again, waiting for one of you to burst out laughing at the prank you surely must be playing on him.

“Wha-? A wife? I have a wife?” you nod and he exhales a deep breath of air in amazement. 

“YOU’RE my wife? Really?” you nod again and Ma smiles at you as she watches the scene of Logan meeting you all over again.

“Am I still in the army? I’m a Captain ya know”

“You left just a few months ago. You still work in the local camps, of course. You like it there, and you’re home every night and most weekends.”

“Does Ma like you?” You don’t even get a chance to finish as he turns to his mother “Do you like her? is she nice? Does she like your new kitchen? I built it y’know.” 

You knew when you met, dated, and married him, that Sy was a Momma’s boy. He loves his mother so much, that her opinion will always mean the world to him. 

Ma nods “You two are the sweetest couple. She’s the best addition to the family, gives you a run for your money alright. She’s my new favourite.” You get a soft hug from her as she says this, with her wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. She’s always felt so grateful that her Logan found you, because my goodness did he love you ferociously, and he needed you in his life. You were the making of him, and the whole Syverson clan will forever be grateful to you for it.

"And where did we get married? If we really are married.” He continues his line of questioning.

“At the ranch, on your family’s land. it was such a special day. We had the reception there too. And we went to Italy for our honeymoon.”

Sy is basking in every word you say, praying it to be true, as if he could will it into existence if it hadn’t already happened, wanting badly to remember sunset kisses and italian food and beach days all spent with you. He perks up at the last thing you say, taken by complete surprise.

“Honeymoon?! Oh my god have we...ya know..?” A blush fades over Sy’s face, and even though you love his Ma, you really wish she wasn’t finding out so many details about your personal life today, like how your son rails you on the regular in many ways, and in many places. He must somehow remember or at least accurately imagine your past endeavours, as he grins like a little shit. 

You smack his arm, lightly but with a firm hand.

“Be quiet, or the whole ward will know about our sex life” you threaten. “Yes we’ve had sex. i’d hope so given that we have a kid on the way.”

If Ma had had to deal with her son getting horny over his “new”wife, she was being fully compensated for it as she witnessed him fall head over heels in love with you, all over again.

“A kid?...Tell me ya not messing with me...are we really- I-” he swallows and his tears come even easier than before “We’re havin’ a baby?” With the sudden realisation, he turns to his Ma. “This beautiful woman right here’s havin’ my kid, Ma?” He looks between the two of you again, watching as you both nod and beam from ear to ear.

“You know you cried just as much when i told you for the first time too. i promise when the drugs are out your system it’ll all make sense again.”

Sy smiles, clutching your hand in his warm palm, almost scared to let go as the door is knocked and he feels you might be taken away. Instead, it’s a welcome visitor.

“Hey doc,” Sy greets the man who reenters the room, now freshly out of scrubs  to visit his patient - who if anything is now simply love sick, no hernia to be found. “This is my wife, and she’s having a baby.” he looks back to you with a quirk of his eyebrow “My baby?” You roll your eyes and he confirms it; “my baby.”

“Oh, congratulations...again.”

The doctor’s evaluation and explanations don’t take long, and while Sy is being informed, you start rubbing your belly as a form of self-comfort. You will need to remind your child that while their father looks incredibly stern and impossibly large, he is silly and goofy and already loves them with his entire being. Over the course of the afternoon, Sy talks with you while the anaesthetic wears off. It turns out they had given him a pretty high dosage based on his height and muscle mass, so he would be out of action for a couple of hours at least.

“Oh, i have your ring” you pipe up before he starts getting too sleepy again, taking the thick gold band off of the necklace around your neck, placing it on his finger carefully.

“That feels better already” he sighs, as he begins to doze in and out of consciousness. Before he closes his eyes once more to rest peacefully, a small tear slides down his cheek, which you of course, notice. Sy has cried maybe 5 times in the time you’ve known him and three of those times have been in this very room.

“Honey what’s wrong? Are you in pain? i can call the doctor-” 

“No i’m fine i’m fine i just-” he sniffs and tries to clear his throat from the sad, heavy pain he feels in his chest. “I’m gonna be real sad when I wake up from this dream. What if I can’t find you when I wake up?”

Oh your sweet, silly man.

“Bear it’s not a dream, I’ll be right here when you get up properly and we can go home and cuddle and I’ll heat up your favourite meal. I’ll be right there with you.”

“And the baby?” he asks, eyes wide. almost nervous to ask.

“Well they have to come too, they're with me. We can look at their pictures again so you can get reacquainted. And Aika will be so happy you’re back. We’ve been gone the whole day.”

“Aika!” your husband perks up, “Oh Aika, man....I love that dog..”

“I know you do bear, you just get some rest for now and then we can go home.”

Before you know it, he’s fallen back to sleep, his mouth wide open as he slumps against his pillow, completely out of it.

It’s dark outside when Sy opens his eyes again, watching as his Ma passes you a small herbal tea in the dimly lit hospital room. Technically visiting hours are over, but no one was going to argue with the Captain’s family. You smile, and he feels like he can finally relax, in your presence

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he growls lowly, and you look up at him from your phone, beaming in surprise, glad that your husband had woken up feeling a bit more like himself.

“Oh hello again” you smile and squeeze his hand, his slow blinking already indicating a much clearer mind, and that he knows exactly who you are.

“Again? What’d I miss?”

“The drugs” he stops you mid-sentence for a sweet kiss, acting as though a minute more without your lips would be the source of his downfall. “Mmmh, the drugs made you so loopy, it was the sweetest thing, Sy.” You grin as he pulls you up beside him on the bed.

He raises his eyebrows, clearly with no recollection of any of the past events. Yet still, he smiles.

“Yeah? How’s baby?” he holds you close to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist so he can cover your tummy with his palm.

“They’re great. Glad to have daddy back and sane.”

You swear that as you say that, he starts tearing up again, this time however he doesn’t let them fall. He was openly weeping earlier, but you won’t tell him that. Not yet.

“Damnit. Must be something in these drugs they got me on.”

“Mm-hmm sure bear.”

You stay close that evening, both curled up on a hospital bed that is already quite a tight fit for your husband alone. But as always, he makes it work. You’re half on top of him, both of you fast asleep, when the nurses come to do their rounds. Ma had left just after he had woken up, sneaking off into the night to let the rest of the family know how her most middle son is keeping after the operation. You’d cuddled and doted on each other until you’d fallen asleep, Sy following not long after as he bid goodnight to you and your precious cargo with a soft kiss to your lips, and protective rub of your stomach.

He counts himself more than lucky to have something so good, that it would pain him to forget. He was living the life that he’d been too scared to ever dream of, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

taglist: @ohmygoodie​ @michelehansel​ @la-cey​ @palaiasaurus64​ @sassy-pelican​ @brandycranby​

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[reyeslonestar]

I can’t face the world without you

Available on Ao3

a little (long) follow up to this fic. I hope you enjoy

TK x Carlos, Angst with a Happy Ending (yay), Coma, Proposal

tw, mention of a panic attack and cardiac arrest

1.9k words

TK sits in the uncomfortable hospital chair that he’s claimed as his own for the past week, tapping his fingers absently against the velvet box he’s holding in his hands. It’s the ring box that came out of Carlos’ uniform pocket when they’d had to cut the blood stained clothing off on the operating table - the final straw that broke the camel’s back of TK’s emotional capacity on the day that Carlos was shot. There's another box in his pocket - the ring inside the one that TK bought a few weeks ago. The one that he was going to offer to Carlos that Friday night after they'd crawled into bed, holding each other close as they revelled in the wonder of each other’s company.

They should be fiancés by now.

Instead, he’s watching the unnaturally silent stillness of the man he loves most in the world; the slow rhythm of the heart rate monitor a soundtrack to the fear in his head that he might never get the chance to ask that question, or to ever hear it returned.

Because Carlos has been in a coma for 8 days. And while the doctors are hopeful, TK knows there’s no certainty that he will wake up.

TK nearly had a panic attack when they told him Carlos went into cardiac arrest on the operating table, the fluids Tommy gave him in the ambulance not quite enough to counter the amount of blood he lost in the field. He was in a critical condition for some time, but the surgeons managed to pull him through the surgery and he was moved onto a ward in an induced coma. They eased off the anaesthetic the next morning, and from then it’s just been a waiting game.

TK refused to leave the hospital for the first three days, sleeping fitfully on the unforgiving plastic chair pulled up against the side of Carlos’ bed, his head pillowed against his boyfriend’s side - the side without all the bandages and the stitches that are holding Carlos’ organs and tissue in place.

On the fourth night Owen was adamant for TK to go home, have a shower, and sleep in a proper bed, and it was a testament to TK’s exhaustion that he couldn’t bring himself to argue. However, after waking in a cold sweat at 3am from the horror of having to helplessly watch Carlos bleed out in front of him over and over, this time without Tommy and Nancy and the ambulance supplies there to save him, TK had ordered an uber and snuck back through the hospital corridors in the early hours, trembling with relief to see Carlos alive and breathing, even if only thanks to various plastic tubes criss crossing his body, and even though the sight of him so unnervingly motionless burnt a sour taste down the back of TK’s throat.

Carlos’ parents have been here every day, too, coming by the room to sit quietly on the other side of Carlos’ bed, and each time the nurses wheeled Carlos away for scans and tests, Andrea and TK would sit together in silence, gripping tightly onto each other’s hands for support. There were a lot of tests in the first couple days, and scans to try and gauge his brain activity, to know when he’d wake up and what kind of state he’d be in. Apparently the results were hopeful, indicating everything looked to be normal for the circumstances, and that Carlos would be back with them soon.

But Carlos still hasn’t woken up. And TK is losing the fight against imagining the worst.

Grace and Judd had stopped by the night before - the whole 126 have been in and out of the hospital over the last week to visit and lend their support. Carlos became part of their family when he became part of TK’s and TK knows they’re missing him just as he is. Judd had pulled him into a tight hug, whispering that Carlos was strong, that he’d pull through, before planting a kiss on the top of his head, ruffling his hair as they’d parted. Grace’s hug had been softer, but no less loving, and they’d both sat by Carlos’ side for a time while Judd took Andrea and Gabriel to get some more coffee from the hospital cafe.

He’d felt her eyes on the way he’d been fiddling with the ring box, the same way he has been ever since he found it.

“You know I wanted to propose that night?” he’d said suddenly, voice scratching with the first words he'd willingly volunteered in days. “Nothing extravagant, just- in a way that was us,” he’d added, volume diminished to a hushed whisper on the last word.

Grace had squeezed his arm gently. “So did he,” she’d said quietly, and TK had just stared at her, unable to put anything into words. She’d shrugged slightly. “He was going to make you dinner that night and propose then. He wanted it to be special, but like you say, in a way that was you.”

Tk has felt too numb with fear to cry since he broke down on that first night, but he’d been pretty damn close then.

“I can’t lose him,” he’d whispered, barely loud enough to hear himself, but Grace had heard him anyway.

“I know, honey, I know,” she’d told him. “The same way I know he’s fighting to come right back to you.”

As much as TK wants to believe her words, as the hours creep late into Carlos’ ninth night in this bed, he’s wondering if maybe Carlos has fought all he can. Maybe his strength finally gave out and the beeping machines next to him is the only thing keeping that chest steadily rising and falling.

Tucking his chair as close to the bed as he can, TK draws Carlos’ hand to his lips as he rests his head against the bedcovers, settling in for another night of interrupted sleep.

“I need you back, Carlos,” he whispers, holding back the tears that threaten to spill down his cheeks. “I dont- I can’t face the world without you.”

-

Tk wakes to the feeling of a gentle hand stroking through his hair with slow movements. He blinks slowly and looks up to see warm brown eyes smiling at him.

“Hi,” Carlos whispers, his voice a hoarse and grating sound from a week's disuse.

It’s the most wonderful sound TK has ever heard.

He cries Carlos’ name brokenly, launching himself at Carlos' neck to hold him close. He can feel Carlos chuckling slightly under his chest even as he pulls TK closer and he closes his eyes to soak in this feeling.

“I missed you,” he mumbles into Carlos’ neck and Carlos holds him even tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he hears Carlos whisper, and he pulls back abruptly.

“No,” he says firmly, wiping away the tears that have slipped down his face. “No, you have nothing to apologise for.” He stands up, shifting into action. “Let me get you some water and then we need to get your doctor, get you checked out-”

Carlos’ hand tugging on his interrupts him. “I love you,” Carlos says, voice still scratchy and rough, but he’s smiling at TK, who sits heavily back into his chair.

“I love you too,” he says, squeezing Carlos’ hand painfully. “I love you so much and I thought I was going to lose you and-” he stops and takes a breath, halting the runaway train of his fear in its tracks. “I’m just so happy to see you again,” he finishes with a whisper.

“I’m here,” Carlos says. “And I’m not going anywhere without you.”

-

TK hovers by Carlos’ bed for the next few hours, only stepping far enough away to allow the doctors and nurses to check Carlos over, run tests and eventually remove the various apparatus that have helped keep him alive. Gabriel and Andrea are a teary mess when they see their son sitting up, breathing, talking, alive, and TK can’t blame them. He feels like he’s been holding his body up through sheer stress and worry, and now he knows Carlos is going to be okay, he’s ready to collapse with relief.

At long last, though, the hospital staff retreat and Carlos’ parents head to the cafe to leave Carlos and TK alone once more and TK doesn’t miss the way Carlos sighs with relief.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Do you need something? I can get you something to eat, or drink, or if you need to sleep-”

“I just want you,” Carlos interrupts gently. “I want to ask you something.”

There's something in his voice that makes TK sit up straighter and he frowns slightly. “What’s up?”

“When I woke up- you were holding a box,” Carlos starts, and TK, realising what he’s referring to, pulls the two ring boxes from his pocket and holds up the one from Carlos’ uniform so Carlos can see it. He nods, taking it from TK’s fingers and studying it as he carries on, “I had a whole dinner planned, you know? I was going to cook for us, lay the table out on the terrace and then after we’d eaten I was going to get down on one knee, and ask you. I definitely didn’t plan for this to happen but-” He opens the box carefully, turning it so the ring faces TK and takes a deep breath.

“I love you, TK. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to wake up every morning and know that the love of my life is lying next to me. I want to have a family with you, and make every house we live in into our home. I want to make you dinner whenever we feel like it and spend half our day off in bed even though one in the afternoon is outrageously late for a lie in.” TK chuckles slightly at the dig at his unwillingness to get up in the mornings and Carlos smiles, so bright and warm.

“I didn’t know I could love anyone like this until I met you.” Carlos continues, “You’ve filled my life with so much happiness and I want to try and make you as happy as I can for as long as I can, so - Tyler Kennedy Strand, will you marry me?”

TK smiles tearfully as he ruefully holds up his own box, laughing slightly as he sees realisation dawn on Carlos’ face. “Beat me to it, didn’t you?” he jokes, opening the box to look at the simple platinum band set with diamonds inside. “I’m afraid I didn't plan a dinner, or a big speech. All I knew was that I wanted to ask you, because I want all those things, too. You’re my family and you’re also my home. You’re the best thing in my life- Carlos, you nearly died and I-” he pauses, swallowing back the shadow of choking fear that threatens to mute him. “I don’t know what I would do without you. You’re everything to me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I don’t want to go another day without asking you to marry me. So yes, Carlos Reyes, I will marry you, but only if you marry me first.”

Carlos laughs through the tears welling in his eyes, pulling TK in by the wrist to kiss him, whispering “I love you” against his lips. When they pull back, he gently threads the ring onto TK’s left hand, his own hand trembling when TK returns the gesture. TK brings Carlos’ hand up to his lips in a mirror of the last night of Carlos’ coma and kisses the ring, warm lips against cool metal.

“I love you,” TK says quietly. “And I can’t wait to love you for the rest of our lives.”

[tremblingthoughtsuniverse]

Dear Future Self. Dear Anybody Who Needs It.

The years almost coming to an end, and thank fucking god for that. Some how I survived it, somehow WE survived it. I have never ever had it easy but this year proved to be especially more challenging. 

My boss, 11 years older than me, took advantage of me at a vulnerable time. I was sad and lonely and needed a friend. He earned my trust as a friend and then tried to convince me it was something more. When I said I had no interest in him in any way more than a friend, he made my work life hell. He always found a reason to make me stay late so it was just him and I. If I did something to piss him off he would find degrading tasks for me to do. He constantly separated me from my male co-workers out of jealousy. He made my work life a living hell. He sabotaged my promotion as a final fuck you before he left for his new job. 

I lost not one, not two, but three dogs this year. My dear sweet Paisley who was by my side for 11 years. She comforted me through every bullshit thing Sick Kids had to put me through. She laid with me while I cried about my shitty day. She kept me company while I was on bed rest. She was my best friend and I didn’t even get to say goodbye. Gracie, the most loving, caring dog we’ve ever had. She made you feel important, and she made you feel loved. She died because of a mistake, somebody else's mistake. She was 5, she was healthy and I never thought the day would come so soon where I had to lay with her while she took her final breaths, watching her in pain and not being able to do anything about it. While my mom sobbed uncontrollably and couldn’t even watch. And Harriet. My grandmas dog. I was being paid to babysit her for three months while she took her first vacation in years. During the second month she jumped off the bed and sprained her leg. Meds caused her to have a stroke and she was no longer a dog. She couldn't move, she couldn't eat or go to the bathroom. She lived in her own filth for days before I realized she wasn’t going to get better. I had to make the hardest decision of my life and put down my grandmas best friend, my new friend who was helping me get over the losses in my life.

I had to drop out of my dream program. I got on the bad side of one of my professors due to a failed group project and was never smart enough to help impress her and bring myself back up again. She failed me in two classes by ONE percent. I wasn’t eligible for funding anymore, I couldn’t afford to pay for it on my own. I felt like a failure. I WAS a failure. 

My dad, whom I’ve waited years for him to get his shit together, grow up and be a parent, proved me wrong for the millionth time. He once again showed me that his wealth (or lack of) will ALWAYS be more important to him than his family. That alcohol will be the only thing he ever willingly spends time with. He’s been fucked up since the start but still somehow raised me to be a compassionate, endless forgiver. Not once has he given me any reason to think he’d change but there has still always been that small feeling of hope that he would. I have been wrong, I will always be wrong but that feeling will never go away. His alcohol is catching up to him, his time is coming and so it the chance for us to make emends and have a relationship. For some fucking reason through all the bullshit he has put me through, this fact still haunts me. I can’t make it stop.

Remission. It’s so so beautiful. Something I fought for my whole childhood. I did it. So much time, so much energy, so much blood, sweat and tears and I finally achieved it. I wish I knew that all of that was me fighting for a moment instead of what I thought was my better future. Remission didn’t last longer than a couple years and to any healthy person that may seem like plenty of time. But I spent my entire childhood in a hospital. I never got to be a normal kid. I never had sleepovers, never talked to boys, never left my house. I didn’t know what kids my age did for fun. I spent so much time fighting for a chance to live a life that I only ever got to see and experience through the TV in the corner of my cold hospital room. So much time was taken from me that the few years of ‘normality’ seemed, well unfair. Especially when the end result is “We don’t know how to help you, you’re just going to have to live with the pain”. What fucking bullshit. You poked me, you took my blood, you traumatize me with a botched procedure and close to no anaesthetic and THAT’S your end result for me? I have to live with it. Bullshit. 

My best friend. No not even that, my other half. The girl I told everything too. The only person who over the past 11 years made things seem like they may possibly get better one day. The unlucky individual who heard every last rant I had to share about the cruel world we lived in. She grew up no longer believing that the world was worth staying in. Endless nights of calls at ungodly hours I was picking her up off the bathroom floor wondering if THIS was the last time I saw my best friend. We survived a war together. The battle of her and this world. Except she did not come out the same. She was no longer the girl who I spent the last half of my life bonding with, growing with. On the outside she looked the same but she most definitely was not. She lived a life of addiction, lies, secrecy, and god knows what else. In one of the hardest years of my life I had to let go of somebody who I thought would never leave. Mainly because at one point when do I stop hurting myself to help somebody who doesn't even want to be helped.  

This, these stories, barely even cover the raw emotion i’ve felt this year. At so many different points my world felt like it was falling apart. Like there was no possible way it was ever going to get better from here. But I am still fucking here. Waiting for the days where the sun seems brighter, the coffee tastes better, I wake up well rested, where something, ANYTHING, feels like its moving in the right direction. Instead of looking at life as one big picture, you have to look at it through a smaller viewpoint. Live for the little things. The customers who give you a tip you both know you don’t deserve, all because you made them smile. The music that makes you want to get out of your seat and dance around the room. The laughs that make you feel like you’ll never catch the gasp of air. The people who make effort to bring any form of joy in your life simply because they want too. The books so intriguing that it’s not until something around you makes you realize you’re still here on earth and not in this alternate universe you’ve been provided. Any little thing that helps distract your thoughts from the world of pain you’ve been living in and shows you that even in something so ugly, you can always always always find something beautiful. You did it. You survived it. You are going to keep surviving it. 

[justinsdaysinthedark]

Post # 6 - It is what it is

I'd be lying if I said I haven't spent the past half an hour with tears flowing from my eyes staring at a blank screen wondering how I'm going to get everything I've got floating in my head out. I suppose listening to Coldplay live in Argentina probably wasn't the best choice of music to set the mood. I'll work on that one in the future...

Where do I start? It's been a question I'm often asking myself at the start of these blog posts and it's certainly not the easiest one. What do you guys know? There's been so much happen since my last post on Thursday night.

Friday July 26th: I saw my doctors around lunchtime who came in quite concerned. Whilst they were confident my lymphoma was one called DLBCL (Diffuse Large B- Cell Lymphoma), some tests had come back with suspect results that it could be a more aggressive and harsh type of lymphoma called Burkitt's lymphoma and if confirmed, chemo was starting that night with no time to waste. There was also one marked in the middle (a cross of the two) called Burkitt's Like Lymphoma which is treated similarly to DLBCL. Whatever it was, I couldn't change it. I just wanted answers and if treatment needed to start, let's get it underway!

Adam, my incredible haematology doctor sent off another test of my gall bladder to finally get the confirmation I was after. It was urgent. He had to know. It was reassuring of Adam to state "Justin, we need to know what this is. Preliminary results are due back later this afternoon and that will hopefully rule out Burkitt's. if it is Burkitt's, we'll start chemo tonight and I'll be with you every step of the way - even if I have to stay back a few hours."

I know doctors earn a fair coin on a lazy day, but how many give you that much confidence that you and your health is important to them? I'm going to have it a guess and say not many but alas, I am so incredibly lucky with the team of doctors I have.

4:00pm and Adam strolls in the door heading straight for my room. My heart drops, similarly to what it had when Michael dropped the news I had lymphoma. "Good news. Preliminary results are back and we're confident it's not Burkitt's. You can't rule out anything in life, so there still is a small chance it could be. We're happy to wait for the final results on Monday, figure out a treatment plan from there and start Chemotherapy next week. Spend Saturday and Sunday on day leave and I'll see you next week."

This was news to my ears. In a time of what has been negative or no news, I could spend the weekend with family relatively freely and forget everything was happening for a few hours each day. My Uncle Bob and Aunty Denise were down from Tasmania to see me, as was my Aunty AJ and cousins from Bairnsdale so it all felt like it fit into place.

Friday night saw me considerably more relaxed with this news...that was until Collingwood started and it was the demolition it was. Slightly humorous side note, the nurse came in around 9pm for my nightly observations. Naturally, my heart rate was up a bit more than normal watching the football (118BPM - normally between 70-85BPM). This caused the nurse to call in the team of doctors who wanted to put me on an ECG machine for the night and monitor my heart. I assured them it was because Collingwood were on and if they gave me an hour, I'd be okay. It took some convincing, but it finally worked. Back they came an hour later and it had gone down - crisis averted.

Saturday afternoon and evening was wonderful. I went down to dads for dinner and was fortunate enough to spend some much needed time with family over a beautiful dinner and good laugh.

Sunday was much the same. I went home, mum did a fair chunk of washing for me as I spent it being me. Seeing Courtney, napping in my own bed and even headed over to Fountain Gate and got some much needed new clothes and other miscellaneous items - something that seems so simple but is such a luxury when you've spent the past 15 days in hospital.

Monday July 29th: They say the more you think positively, the more positive news you shall receive....or it goes something like that right? I woke up this morning the most upbeat and best I'd felt in weeks. I felt fine. I felt no pain, almost like I'd woken up from a shitty hotel! In all honesty, I felt like I'm abusing the system however I keep being quickly reminded how much I need to be here. Did I wake up so positive because I lived my old life for 16 hours over the weekend? Is it because I was hoping to hear a reasonably positive outcome with this lymphoma test? Probably a mix of both if I'm honest. But whatever it was, I was hopeful.

Adam came around at roughly 10:00am. Didn't really have much for me in terms of news but more of an outline of the day. If they hear the results of the test they were waiting on, they'd write me up a treatment plan ASAP and get chemo started this afternoon. At worst, I'd be starting it tomorrow (Tuesday). They just needed that definitive answer of what type of lymphoma I have - an answer I'd love more than anybody.

Either way, we agreed i'd need a PICC (Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter) line in which basically is a long-term cannula. It runs from the inside of my arm right up and around and stops basically just outside my heart. This is for easy access for the chemotherapy and even an easy exit for blood tests - something that's proven incredibly difficult to take from me over the past few days. Additionally, these lines can last up to six months verses the three days you get from a cannula. There were too many positives to say no to!

This wasn't scheduled for any time in particular, so 1:00pm came around and I was about to be taken to get the PICC line in.

Just as I was about to leave, Adam came in with a few words I'm all too familiar with. "Well, the pathology tests we were waiting on have come back inconclusive..."

Woah. Wait. What? How do tests of my gall bladder that was removed six days ago come back inconclusive? How does one of the main sources not have enough 'data' to tell them what sort of lymphoma I have? I was just stunned.

Adam continued "As a result, we can see some signs of Burkitt's lymphoma and that's what we're going to treat you for. You're young. You should be able to handle it and it's better to over treat you than under treat and be stuck where we are at the moment. It's an intense 16-day chemo treatment that will totally wipe out your red and white blood cells as well as your platelets. We foresee you being in here for another 3-5 weeks, depending on how well your body goes getting these levels back up to normal post this first treatment..."

I honestly say this but that's all I remember from this conversation. I was hoping I'd be heading home this week but looks like that definitely won't be happening. Today marks day 40 of the past 55 days in hospital (day 15 of this stint) and if I go off the longest suggested time expected, I have another 35 days to go. That honestly crushed me.

I got taken down to get my PICC line in - quite an easy process. Very similar to putting in a larger cannula, just a whole lot longer and uses local anaesthetic as well as being guided by an ultrasound and X-ray. I'm lucky enough to have two ports, which will hopefully speed up some of my medication and how much they can pump in. Does it feel weird? The only weird part was feeling it slide down past and near my heart - but that's okay now!

By the time I return, dad made his was in to try and help process the news. We get Adam in to once again explain the process. In layman's terms, I'll be starting an intense and high-dose 16-day chemotherapy program kicking off tomorrow (Tuesday) morning. Most of the time across the next 16 days, I'll be hooked up via IV drip getting whatever medication is required. I think I saw I have rest days on days 7 & 8 which I suppose will give me two days to look forward to. At the end of the day, it's something I'm not certain on and will be a day by day process and constant learning about what's going into my body to help fight with me.

I do have one request for you all. With my body not producing red or white blood cells or platelets over the next few weeks, I do request if you are planning to visit however are sick to stay away those extra few days. With my immune system going to be at the lowest it's been, I don't particularly want to pick up something I don't need. Additionally, as much as I'd love flowers, they're also banned due to the infection risk of the spores mixing with the chemotherapy and causing some dangerous damage from the inside.

At the end of the day, if you're not sure please message me and check as I'm not entirely sure myself about everything. I'm constantly learning as I'm going.

How am I feeling? I'm nervous. I'm nervous at the unknown. How will this affect me? How bad am I going to feel? Will I lose my hair? What will my energy levels be like? In advance, I do apologise if over the next few weeks I'm not myself. Truth be told, that's because I probably won't be.

In a way, i'm finally excited to start my treatment first thing tomorrow morning (after yet ANOTHER lumbar puncture). I was so envious of both people next to me getting their first rounds of chemo today. I know mine will be intense but I just can't wait.

I've learnt so much about cancer and chemotherapy over the past four days and I know there's so much more to learn. Today I learnt I'll be incredibly highly cytotoxic, which basically means all needles and anything used on me need to go in a separate bin just for me. Additionally, I'll have to get used to the good old double flush after the toilet to ensure all waste is disposed of. Mouth ulcers are a big issue with most chemo patients as well. I'll have to start brushing my teeth after every meal and taking a special mouthwash 3x daily to assist with keeping these under control. There's plenty of other little things, but they're two I least expected.

Everything really hit me last night....not like it did tonight though. I just had twenty minutes to reflect and it just became a sudden realisation. What I'm going through is real. It's not a 'joke' anymore. It's not something they're looking at as a potential cause. It is the cause. I have a legitimate medical issue and it's finally time to fight lymphoma. All well and good to be talking the talk like I have been - it's now time to walk the walk. This sits well with me. If I give somebody my word, I do whatever I can to get it achieved. Unfortunately for the lymphoma throughout my body I've given it my word and it's time to fight it. Round one begins tomorrow morning.

I leave tonight feeling a whole lot better than I did when I started tonight's post. I didn't learn from my words earlier as Coldplay live from Argentina is still playing however I'm in a much more comfortable mind space.

My best friend of a lazy 20 years, Dylan visited tonight with his partner, Jacqui. One phrase popped up more than most and they made me aware it was a common phrase coming out of my mouth.

"It is what it is."

I can't control what's happened to me as "it is what it is." What I can control from here though is how I fight lymphoma. Thanks for the visit tonight guys, I appreciated the two hours spent here in what's been an incredibly tough afternoon.

Much love.

Juzz xx

[loadingluke]

Recovery days 3,4&5 of stage one RFF phalloplasty

MONDAY 4/2

Monday was a pretty chill day. I slept quite well again, and wasn’t really disturbed besides my obs checks. Everything is going pretty well. I was feeling a little tender in the catheter area, like there was a bit of tension, but it wasn’t too bad. At this point I was rarely using my PCA, and honestly was just sick of all the wires and bits sticking out of me.

Goossen came and checked on the phallus and was happy with how it was going. He gave the all clear to get my catheter, drains and fluids removed either tonight or tomorrow morning!

Today was exciting though because it was the first time I was allowed to get out of bed post surgery! Two nurses came in and I kinda shimmied to the left side and used my left hand to push off the back of the bed (which was in an upright position). I then wiggled my legs off the side and got into somewhat of a seated position- and the nurses helped push my right side up to sit up. With my arm in all these dressings and unusable as well as the abdomen incision on my right side, it is hard to match the strength of my left needed to actually get up by myself. Once I was seated on the end of my bed, I sat a little as I was feeling a little woozy. This passed pretty quickly but I was just conscious of not rushing it. Standing up was actually not too bad, and then I took my first few steps. The nurses held my drains, catheter bag and iv machines. Since it was my first time up, they grabbed the commode chair and I sat myself down on that and they wheeled me to the bathroom. I had a bit of a sponge bath and brushed my teeth. It felt so good to clean myself up.

The nurses set up a gel cushion on the recliner so I could sit out of bed. I sat in the recliner for about an hour, and felt pretty good. Maddy and Mum came over, and we had some tea and spent some time with them. I felt a little tired after sitting for a bit. I got back into bed, and as soon as I did the physio arrived to help me walk. Worst timing 😂 I was too tired from my morning escapade to walk anymore, so she told me she’d come back in the morning. The occupational therapist made me a foam pillow with a cut out to take pressure off my groin area, to make sitting a little more comfortable.

Maddy and Mum spent time with me, I just rested and we watched a little tv. They left at about 4, as Mum had to take Maddy to the airport as she was flying back to Melbourne that evening. It was hard to say goodbye but I know it’s not for long, but I already can’t wait to see her again. I had a bit more of a nap, and then my friend Corey came to visit me. We played a card game and just hung out (thanks for stopping by 💗).

I then went to bed, and slept pretty well. I’ve been actually surprised by how well I’ve been sleeping. It’s all been pretty smooth sailing if I’m quite honest. Pain is still about 3/10, and I’ve not really needed the PCA, only one or twice all day. I’m on targin and Panadol, with endone for breakthrough pain, though I haven’t needed that. I’m also taking antibiotics.

TUESDAY 5/2

Tuesday morning. The days are passing by pretty quickly! Dr Goossen and a few other doctors came in and had a look at the phallus. Things are still looking good, blood flow and capillary refill are good and we’re all pretty happy. He gave the go ahead to get everything out. Nurses came by and removed my fluids and PCA. I then walked to the chair and the nurses came back, and then removed my catheter. It wasn’t too painful, but weird. I hate catheters, getting it out felt like I really needed to pee, even though I know that’s not actually what I needed to do. I just stayed in the chair and had some water. The drain in my abdomen was being removed later, but I had to wait until the suction had stopped so it wouldn’t be painful. The physio came back, and we had a little walk around the room and to the door. Walking is much easier today, especially without the catheter! I went back to bed, and then had the drain removed. Finally cordless! After the drain was removed, I went to the toilet and had no issues voiding. I had a wash up and brushed my teeth, and I felt sooooo goooooood. I felt so much more alert and aware, and I was just really glad to feel a little more back to normal.

I got into bed and just relaxed. Mum came by and I went and sat in the chair and we had some tea. After a few hours I hopped back into bed and mum went home for the evening. I passed my voiding trial with flying colours, I wasn’t having any issues with my bladder since the catheter removal (phew!). The only concern I had was with all the packing around my phallus, as it made it hard for me to feel like I was able to keep the area under the padding clean. This was more of an anxiety and I was doing fine, but ehh.

At about 6pm, when I started to feel very hot. I had my temp tested and it was about 37.7, a mild fever. I was stressed that I was getting an infection, and really freaked out. I wasn’t sure if the padding needed to be changed, or how everything else was going. I got myself up and had another sponge bath, and had my night antibiotic and about half an hour later I felt much better. I don’t really know what it was, but it passed. I think my anxiety around getting an infection just got the best of me. My temp was measured again and it was back down to 36.6, so crisis averted.

I got back to bed and watched some TV. Had a good sleep. Still not having too many issues sleeping, the only issue with my arm is that it has begun to itch. I’m taking it as a good thing though, as it’s a good sign that it’s healing. I scratched my elbow  and I felt a shooting sensation up my arm. It didn’t hurt, but felt real weird.

WEDNESDAY 6/2

I woke up at about 4am to a really bad pain in my leg. Turns out when I was feeling hot earlier in the night, the nurse moved my compression stockings down and they ended up doubled over! The nurse fixed them by pulling them back up, and then we were all good. I fell back to sleep at about 5am, and woke up at about 8:30am when the nurses came in for obs.

I had more targin, antibiotics and Panadol just to stay on top of the pain. Dr Goossen’s associate, Andrew? came in to check on my phallus and as per normal was happy with it all. He said Dr Goossen will be coming in to see me tomorrow.

The physio came by about half an hour later, and we had a walk to the coffee machine just to get my legs moving. I didn’t feel any pain, just slight discomfort due to my arm being so heavy. It is nice to get up and walking, giving my butt incisions a little bit of a break.

I got back into bed, and called Maddy, then I called the anaesthetist company regarding paying my anaesthetic fee. I hadn’t received his bank details and since I wasn’t leaving the hospital for a couple days I wanted to make sure I could pay it when I’m discharged via bank cheque (as my cards have limits on spending above a certain amount of money). She said all would be fine and that she put a note on my file.

I went to the bathroom and had my morning freshen up-the usual sponge bath, dry shampoo, brushing teeth etc. I can’t get over how good cleaning myself up makes me feel. I feel so much more comfortable, and every day I’m gaining more strength and it’s getting easier.

My packing around the phallus started coming a little loose on one side, and so a nurse brought some tape to put it back in place. I noticed my the dressings on the top of my butt incisions has rolled up over the incisions on one side, leaving them exposed, but when the nurse checked on them she said it shouldn’t be an issue. My butt has changed shape a bit, it looks and feels a lot flatter and I’m super stoked with it. It’s still really swollen but that definitely has been a nice perk from all of this.

Because the support has moved a little, I was able to see my whole penis for the first time today and...wow. I’m so beyond happy with how it turned out. It’s been 5 days and it’s already so worth it. It’s exactly how I hoped it would be and it’s only going to get better! I’m feeling super positive and I’m so happy I’ve had a smooth journey so far. It’s by no means easy, but so so worth all the discomfort and irritation and pain.

My hand has been doing well, my fingers feel good, I’m able to wiggle them and move them quite a bit. I’m not overdoing it though, just a little movement every few minutes or so.

Mum came over and we had some tea and Skyped my family, including my siblings. They’ve been supportive of my transition since they were told in the beginning of 2015, and at this point they often forget I have ever been anything besides their brother. Even though they don’t know what’s happening, it has been nice being able to talk to them while I’m cooped up in here.

As mum was going, Hans popped in to have a little look at how everything is going. While he was here, he put some more tape on my padding (which was in dire need of structural support). He said to not worry about the plastic butt incision covers, and that they’ll be replaced shortly anyway. I asked him about my legs and whether or not he made one or two incisions on my legs. He said he ended up going with two, as the vein he found in the right side was not very large and didn’t really have the best branching. He thought it would work, but decided bite the bullet to go in my left and ended up finding some that worked a little better. I find it interesting just how weird bodies are- it really varies for everyone because their veins are all different. I’m glad he decided to go in again, i don’t mind an extra incision if it means a better chance at good blood supply. He had a look at my phallus and was very happy. I told him how happy I was with it and he seemed touched, and we hi-fived (I love this man 😂). He said I should be able to get the dick padding off tomorrow or Friday morning, and my splint Friday morning. This means I’ll be able to leave Friday as originally planned. He said once the padding comes off, I’ll get the infamous dick donut, used to prevent kinking and to make sure it all heals up as expected. He said I’ll probably see him sometime on Tuesday following my discharge, as well as the hand therapist at some point next week. Everything is looking pretty good!

I’ve had another sponge bath and brushed my teeth, all ready to settle down for some trashy tv!

[dietsauthority]

Diary of a hip replacement: week 1

The countdown to my hip replacement

My ideal leg that has actually had actually the hip replaced is my stronger leg and taking a great deal of the stress, as is my back. In my evaluation, the specialist creates in the notes sent out to my GP and also myself that there is a 3cm distinction in leg size. No surprise my back is harming. He keeps in mind that the un-operated leg is 'perished'.

Walking any kind of range causes substantial pain in my lower and also center back, so before the op I am doing 10 swimming pool sizes at the local recreation centre as well as a series of workouts to maintain myself mobile. I could put it off no more. I should get this hip replaced to even up the disparity in height and to reduce the pain.

At my pre-assessment a week prior to the surgery, a nurse takes my high blood pressure, asks me a series of concerns regarding my way of living, weighs as well as gauges me, takes pee as well as blood examinations, and offers me an ECG heart test.

Coping with anxiety before my hip substitute operation

But probably my most significant concern regarding the hip procedure was going under basic anaesthetic. I have no idea why. I have had lots of hip ops over the years - 7 major operations before the age of six. Some surgery in my twenties then, in 2000, the right hip replaced.

I had never even thought of the general anaesthetic prior to, but this time, it is a significant problem that towers above me. I am 54, not 24 or 14 or 4. Would I make it through the anaesthetic?

I know it sounds absurd, yet it was definitely actual for me for about a fortnight prior to the day. Ultimately I located the ideal means to deal with this irrational fear (I am menopausal) was to deep take a breath whenever the stress and anxiety hit as well as keep active, disturbance being a coping method. That's why I went swimming the night prior to the procedure, because it soothed me down.

When I did fulfill the anaesthetist, I stated to him, 'I am extremely nervous'. 'Of course, you are' he responded. And naturally, the op was mosting likely to happen. Exactly how else was I to be knocked out? With a Roger Rabbit- style animation mallet as well as chirruping cartoon bluebirds circling around over me?

Day 1: the day of my hip replacement operation

A week later on I go to the hospital where I fulfill the expert and also the anaesthetist.

The anaesthetist informs me that I will certainly have an overall basic anaesthetic, asks me if I have any type of loosened or incorrect teeth as well as asks me to move my neck from entrusted to right.

The time has actually come. After not consuming or consuming alcohol from twelve o'clock at night I am asked to place on a gown and also some paper pants. They are prepared for me.

Wheeled to operating theatre, the anaesthetist asks me what I provide for a work (15 years ago it was a '10, 9, 8 ...' countdown), while inserting a cannula right into my hand, as he infuses a solution we bid farewell to each various other and ...

I am woken up by a man stating my name and also telling me that it is around. I have actually felt nothing in all and had no aware knowledge of anything being done to me, or memory, I am impressed and soothed.

I am pressed back as much as my room I am lifted from the trolley to the bed. The specialist enters into the space as well as tells me that my hip was really tight, and that I hemorrhaged a great deal and also have a drainpipe with a container of blood connected to me. The nursing team take my blood stress frequently and also give me an anti-sickness medicine into the cannula in my hand.

The opening night passes, I need to request for a bed pan twice. The staff check on me consistently. I am linked to a set of electric 'socks' that pump as well as grind throughout the evening, as well as carry a set of limited knee-high elastic socks, both to avoid blood clots. I am also provided a shot right into the stomach.

Day 2: my post-hip-replacement physio begins

The adhering to early morning I fulfill the physiotherapist for the very first time and also given a strolling structure so I can rise to go the toilet.

I must rest on the bathroom as well as any type of chair carefully, placing my operated leg out directly. I must not go past a 45 degree knee-leg posture. When my right hip was changed in 2000, I was issued with an elevated seat to put into to the commode itself now the physio tells me that just stretching my operated leg out in front of me will certainly do the trick.

I should not flex over, or exist on my side, as there is a threat of placing the round as well as outlet out. I must not cross my legs. Gingerly, does it, I could stagnate anywhere quickly.

Pain alleviation is a box including morphine with a switch that I could press if I feel I need discomfort relief, I additionally have an oxygen nose pipe.

Later, I opt for my initial stroll with the physio therapist, out and also up as well as down the hallway outside, there is a bar along the wall like in a dancing college. I do some small bends as well as aim to lift the knee of the operated leg. This is tough as the leg still feels swollen and numb from the surgery.

Day 3: the physio encourages me to get out of bed

The physio comes back as well as we pace again and do some even more simple exercises, she speaks with me about waking the muscular tissues up, and also worries the value of obtaining the surrounding tissue relocating once again, also while the new joint is bed linens itself in my body. She also motivates me to get clothed as well as sit out in a chair instead of just maintain climbing back into bed. I admit that I really feel extremely tired in those initial two days as well as spend a great deal of time sleeping in and out of sleep.

Day 4: my morphine pump is removed as well as I practice fluctuating the stairs

The morphine pump is gotten rid of in addition to the oxygen mask makings me cost-free to move around. Two registered nurses come as well as remove the drain that is inside my leg and also the bottle of blood that goes along with it. They inform me to take a deep breath as they draw the drain out, there is a small tugging experience. It is not unbearable.

I am secured by a physio as well as we do the stairways. One step each time: 'Great boost to heaven, poor leg to hell', which implies increasing the staircases you put your unoperated foot on the action first, on the descending trip your freshly run leg goes first. This is sluggish progress as you raise one leg then up with the crutches and also carry up the other one, pigeon design, 15 years back, you were not enabled to do stairs, today you are encouraged to be as mobile as possible.

Day 5: going home after the hip replacement

I'm going home today. A nurse evacuates my bag for me, I am not enabled to flex, and also takes me through the medicines I will certainly take home with me.

The pain alleviation now recommended is 2 paracetamol as well as 2 ibroprofen every 4 hours.

I proposal farewell to the team, who have actually been terrific, as well as my sibling drives me home, in the front guest seat. It is advised that you put a strong plastic bag on the seat, to make sure that you could pivot right into the seat without removaling the brand-new hip joint. It does really feel unusual sitting in the safety seat and I could really feel that something has actually happened in that hip joint.

Home finally (my birthday) but we keep cake and candle lights to a minimum. I need to work out the staircases as well as do my exercises, some standing up holding into a strong chair, as well as some resting in bed, each set needs to be done 4 times a day.

You must sleep on your back, handing over might cause the hip joint to dislodge, not a great situation as you would definitely discover yourself back in hospital.

I am delighted to be home without the noises of the active ward, and also calm down right into my brand-new regimen. I am using two elbow joint assistance props, some medical facilities allow you entrust to walking sticks, it depends from hospital depend healthcare facility trust.

Day 6: sleeping on my back and doing the bed and standing exercises

After an evening obtaining utilized to resting only on my back, in my bed at residence, I rise with aid from my partner, I have little cravings and have the ability to take care of some fruit as well as among those little yoghurt drinks.

We choose that I would certainly do both the bed as well as the standing works out four times a day, with an established day-to-day timetable, for these, though it tends to slip every now and then. The bed workouts contain Deep Breathing to begin, Ankle Pumps (increasing my feet and also doing foot 'circles'), Quadriceps and also Gluteal Contractions (elevating my knees and also calf bones, feet an inch or more and also holding it for 2 secs, Heel Slides (bending both knees no even more than 45 levels), and Hib Kidnappings relocating the operated leg out to the side as much a comfy). This exercise is the hardest and also I require my other half to relocate the leg as I discover it practically difficult to move it under my very own heavy steam.

Surprisingly, the standing exercises are a great deal easier. Hanging on throughout of the bedstead or dining room table or chair, I comply with a series of knee bends, unoperated-leg swings sideways and also to the back, hamstring curls, mini crouches as well as heel raises.

Day 7: obtaining used to moving the house after my hip replacement

I obtain utilized to walking around your home, slowly, I proceed my workouts. I consume hardly any, though it's thought that you could be prone to weight gain while in recovery, due to absence of activity. My little girl chefs a spaghetti dish in the evening which I take pleasure in, the very first dish I've actually enjoyed considering that the op.

I am taking medicines every 4 hours, and as I rise the staircases for the umpteenth time, I remind myself that my 80-year-old mom has in the last few years had both her knees replaced as well as managed it. If she could do it at 80, so can I. I am very worried, nevertheless, that the upper leg of my run leg has swollen to two times the dimension of the other one.

After 2 full days in your home, I appreciate the very straightforward 'precautions' around your home. We have hand grasps all over the house. These are so beneficial, as my crutches are up to the floor whatever I relax them versus. The developer of gravity defying crutches will succeed. I have my mobile phone in my clothing dress pocket when I'm around your home. I have to keep in mind to put on a jacket with pockets.

We have actually additionally gotten a second-hand, straight-backed wooden chair for me to sit in the living space. Low seat, soft pillow sofas and elbow chairs are a rigorous no for the following couple of weeks.