Dear "Blogger"...

I think Blogger should hire someone, because a "bot" "can" make mistakes, to go to, find, and remove to a trash receptacle, and subsequently delete, all the bogus "blogs" out there, making use of the "blogspot.com" addresses. The "I am not a robot." they added for commenting on posts clearly does not help any longer, so the only solution would be having a human to do so. 

Oh.... and the concept of "bots"? I don't really need to have 100 visitors from Russia all because some stupid "bot" saw the word "boobs" somewhere on my blog and chose to link to it. I think that is how it works anyway. End rant. 

(Yes, apparently I do have too much time on my hands at present.)

Life hacks...

You see them quite often... these "life hack" videos... Well, my life hack? Sanitary pads. I had a box of gauze and box of the three inch tape on hand when I started. I had had the lower leg and thigh staples taken out the required time after surgery, and less than a week later, there was seepage on the bottom and leakage on the top. I am so glad that I had the gauze and tape on hand from years and years ago, but I soon had to buy three more boxes of gauze pads. Turns out they don't make gauze pads all the same, or of the same thickness and absorbency...  Sigh... 

So... what does a peri-menopausal or menopausal chick do? Well... check what else is on hand of course...  Sanitary pads of all shapes and sizes is what was to be had. Hmmm... can I use this? Can I cut this one and use both? Will this cover the leg wounds where needed? I used tape on each side, which worked well, but what I found is that the mini-pads were the perfect width and length... and... I could use one whole piece of the three inch gauze tape to cover the part of the pad that needed to be held in place. Sanitary, super-absorbent, sticky = perfect. I wish I had thought of it that third week. 

I am now just past my five week anniversary of surgery, and there is still some slight leakage and weeping of both a little blood and fluid, but the swelling on the foot and leg is down to almost nothing. Almost. I DID go out and walk to the store and back on my own this past week, which was wobbly, but still...  Feeling more steady as I go.

The funny thing is that I tend to have overlooked the fact that I had open heart surgery. The leg has been more troublesome. This may however be due to the fact that prior to this surgery, I walked everywhere, and that has had a huge impact on me during this time, not being able to just get out and walk anywhere. That of course, and not being able to fit my swollen foot into shoes or boots. 

Oh... and soon I will have to figure out what I am going to do with my life. Again.

I turned fifty this year. Yay me!

But...

... I still get up. (Even if only to feel tired and sit in a chair for most of the day. I think I am going to test myself again today.)

Whatever...

I realize that it is a little too late in life to have something "normal", and besides, it wasn't something I was looking for in the first place. I suppose that having a touch of normal would have been nice at some point, but here I sit in the quiet, cold, still aloneness, as I have for so many years before, absorbing the meaningless nature of it all...

The artistry of spilled milk...

I had poured the milk and was putting it back in the fridge when it started to slip. I saw it fall from my hands and head towards the floor in slow motion. I could see a small puddle form just as I swooped down to grab the carton, only to realize that “You’re not supposed to bend down like that after heart surgery stupid.” Miraculously, the carton was still pretty much closed. I noticed afterwards that more milk had been spilled than had been previously noted, as I saw it in three other spots, as well as on the grate at the bottom of the fridge. I had quickly thrown down pieces of paper towel on it and in the nooks and crannies, until I could get back to it for proper cleaning. Needless to say, I waited until almost the end of the day to complete that task, which for whatever reason seemed to be much more arduous than it was.

Frankensteined...

I have metal staples from ankle to groin on my left leg. I have metal staples on the chest bone. I have a few stitches on my rib-cage. Apparently they also took a vein from the mammary area. Surgery was two weeks ago Friday. I came home a week later. I had run some errands with assistance the day of and the day after, but none since then. I have not yet been able to walk outside. In the house I hobble around and do my physio exercises in the warmth of the laundry room sunshine. I showered at the hospital, on my own, with the leg completely wrapped up in black garbage bags and taped snugly, along with the IV on the right wrist wrapped with plastic as well. I have not showered at home yet as I have not regained my balance sufficiently to do so, but that is the Thursday night task. 

On an interesting side-note, surgery was typically three to four, perhaps six hours... I went under at 1pm and everything was a complete black void until I heard a voice saying "It is 11pm, you should wake up..." Having been on extra pain medication for the first couple days and a diuretic for the duration, I was pretty much up less than every hour, the walking dead, head tilted to the left, eyes glazed over, using the walker without thought nor care except to get to where I needed to go and back. I felt bad for the nurses on duty who had to unhook me... every single time... I had to get up... ten times the first night... and more the next day... I did appreciate the fact that things hit me considerably harder than most of the patients. I could hear and see everything, even though my eyes were closed and it looked as though I was sleeping. 

Although I had time to attend pre-admission clinics, read the material, practice what I could do and not do, I was woefully unprepared. Any questions asked were the ones most ignored, during, before and after, and the ones which would have made recovery a bit less strained. Ah well, c'est la vie... My hope was, and is, that I may feel less tired than I had before, and that perhaps I will feel more alive as time goes on.

(Quadruple coronary artery bypass surgery)