The orthopedic surgeon replaced Ellie's knee last Monday, and the hospital let her go home on Thursday afternoon. Since then, she has been improving every day. Her walker and bedside commode and Arixtra syringes and blood-glucose-testing thingy are all at the ready. I have been helping her with such activities as getting into and out of bed, emptying the commode, doing laundry, making the bed, bringing various medicines, bathing, et cetera, et cetera (as Yul Brynner said in The King and I). A physical therapist came on Friday and also a visiting registered nurse. The physical therapist will be coming by three times a week and the visiting nurse will be visiting on Mondays and Thursdays.
Now for the really important stuff. Yesterday our daughter-in-law brought over a turkey/wild rice/broccoli/cheese casserole, and her mother sent along two quarts of homemade vegetable beef soup, a pan of cornbread, and a Coca-Cola® cake. Today our neighbor Debra from across the street brought over a piping hot dish of macaroni and cheese. Beginning tomorrow, several ladies from the church choir, all of whom are excellent cooks, will provide our evening meal for about a week. In the food department, things are not just looking up, they have never looked better. I mention this only because four days of eating in a hospital cafeteria left much to be desired. My other daughter-in-law did rescue me with two suppers and a breakfast at her home, I must admit. But at the hospital I rejected most of the offerings as completely unappetizing and probably inedible. On one occasion I settled on a scrumptious (not!), well-balanced meal of greasy French fries, a taco made of mystery meat, and a dish of banana pudding. You use your food pyramid; I'll use mine. In my defense, Ellie says I can make a mean scrambled egg and an even meaner BLT sandwich.
Seriously, your continued prayers for Ellie (and me, if you think of it) are greatly appreciated and play no small part in her recovery.
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