Two days post-op.

My surgery was yesterday, and it ended up being pretty brutal.  Once my surgeon made the incision and looked around with the scopes a bit, I guess he discovered the damage to the patella and the underlying cartilage was far worse than what the MRI had presented.  So he cleaned me up, stitched me up, and here I am, on my way to being almost as good as new.  I stayed overnight in the hospital, and my mom stayed with me throughout, which was not only helpful, but comforting.  My sweet Spencer also visited me when I was in post-op recovery, and brought me a beautiful orchid to make my sterile feeling hospital room just the slightest bit homier.  Recovery hasn't been too awful so far, but the variety of pain meds I'm on are keeping me as comfortable as I can be, following such a big surgery.  I had IV meds in the hospital, paired with a pain pump into my femoral artery, and oral meds.  I was worried once the IV came out, the pain would become intolerable, but I've actually managed it okay thus far.  

Spencer stayed with me last night, which sort of blows my mind a little bit.  After all, we haven't known each other all that long, but he stepped right into the role of caregiver, and has been absolutely wonderful.  I can't move around much without help, since I'm hooked up to a nerve blocking pain pump and an ice pump that wraps my knee, not to mention the pain, exhaustion, and dizziness that keeps me pretty bed bound.  But he got up with me each and every time, unhooking everything and guiding me right onto my crutches without hesitation.  It's unbelievable to me how helpful and comforting he has been to me since my injury, but particularly during this post-operative period.  Hopefully I'll come up with someway to show my absolute appreciation for his reassuring and comforting support.

As I write this, my apartment is filled with the amazing smells of fajitas and all the fixin's, as Spencer cooks up his own chef's specialty, which just happens to be of my favorite Mexican variety.  I am, of course, laid up in bed, but comforting sounds surround me, giving me an undeniable feeling of peace and happiness.  From the pots and pans clinking as he sautés his way through the kitchen, to the occasional cracking *shwick* of a Bud Light being opened, to the dreary plipping of the raindrops outside of the window, and especially of his fingers on his guitar, I am far more cheerful and serene than ever would be expected at only 48 hours post-op.  

This life, I am so happy for.