Today marks the third month since my knee replacement surgery. I've been finished with rehab since Sept. 11. Contrary to much of what I've read, neither of my knees feels much different than before, minus the pain. I have no sensation of their not being a natural part of my anatomy except when I kneel on them, and I think that may be getting less noticeable also.
With my right knee last May, 2013, I did not have a lot of pain, none at first, which I attribute to lasting effects of the nerve block administered, which I think is really effective in my case. After I started P.T., I would wake at night with dull toothache-like pain down my leg. It lasted for about 3 weeks, I think. With the second surgery, I have felt no pain at all in my knee, practically none at all of any kind in the hospital, where my records show I rated it 3 out of 10, and almost no pain at all ever since. A few times I felt transient pain when I got home, 2 days after surgery, and it was in my foot, and then later minor pain in my lower shin. But these pains were short-lasting. By the time I would get to the kitchen to take a Tylenol, the pain would be gone. I couldn't believe that was all the pain there was, so I kept expecting it to appear at some later time, but so far it has not, and I'm eternally grateful. I have 2 almost full bottles of Oxycodone, and they have not been refilled.
I had an episode of what I thought was sciatic pain a few days after I got home on July 10, self diagnosed, I may add. But when I went for my 2-week checkup, the P.A. suspected it was ITB instead. The Visiting Nurse was familiar with the term, and she really helped me, by finding the troublesome spot. The next day it was gone. At my next visit, a month later, this time with the surgeon, I asked him if that were a usual occurrence. He said no, and that the tendon had probably been stretched. That was the word he used, "stretched." I said no more, but think he might be a diagnostic genius, because that reminded me of what happened only 2 days after I was home from the hospital. People were visiting, and I was walking around as usual, no walker or cane. I went to put some empty soda cans out in the room outside the kitchen where we recycle. I stepped down the one step with my operated leg---and slid! The cat had puked up a slimy hairball at the bottom of the step, and when my left foot stepped on it, the left leg flew straight out in front, with my weight landing on my right leg, which had buckled beneath me. My fleeting thought was that I'd ruined both knees, but I was lucky to be able to get right up and say nothing about it. I did forget (almost) until Dr. C. used the word "stretched." That leg couldn't have stretched any further out from my body. It was rather eerie, almost as if he knew, but he'll never hear about it from me.
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