The Folly of Making Plans

As you may remember, I had what was supposed to be a “routine” outpatient knee replacement surgery a couple of weeks ago. I wrote and scheduled a post for the week of the surgery, and thought I'd be back at my desk the following week.

Photo by Jonathan Borba on Unsplash

Well, things didn’t quite go as planned.

“Oh, the vanity of plans! Our lives proceed regardless. All the things we work out in such minute detail slip away from us at the last moment, or change.”

―Georges Rodenbach, The Bells of Bruges

The night following surgery, I fell and suffered a traumatic dehision¹ of the surgical wound. That resulted in a second surgery, two nights in the hospital, and a week in an acute rehabilitation facility. I'm home now, and just getting back to my desk. I'm still tethered to my walker, and there is lots of work to do in physical therapy before I'm ready to go out dancing, but I'm getting stronger every day.

Beyond the obvious physical challenge of this incident, there were unanticipated emotional challenges as well. I've always thought of myself as robust and sturdy. I thought I had decent upper body strength for a woman of 65 years. I can lift a 30-pound roll-aboard bag into the overhead bin without assistance. I thought I would breeze through my recovery and be better than ever in just a few weeks. I knew I would need a walker for a short while, but I chose not to purchase the other accoutrements used to make a standard home accessible to those with disabilities.

Such hubris. My idea of myself as strong and capable was shattered by the reality of “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up”.

When you have only one functional leg, getting into and out of a seated position requires using your arms to lower, push, or pull yourself up. You need chair arms, grab bars or handholds properly positioned. The lower the seat, the more difficult it is. A standard-sized household toilet is a very low seat.

Without going into more detail that anyone wants to read, I offer this advice, should you ever find yourself in this situation:

1)    Get the bedside commode², which provides a raised seat for your toilet with supportive arms at each side. (Remove the bucket and fit the frame over your normal toilet). Yes, it is ugly. And yes, you really do need it.

2)    Wear the Depends. I know, you're not incontinent. Neither am I. But rushing anywhere is not possible following this sort of surgery, and rushing to the bathroom in the middle of the night is a recipe for disaster. Removing the element of urgency means you don't need to rush. If you make it, great. If not, no big deal.

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Newly Published Design

Cascade Yarns just published a design I created last winter—the Blooming Yoke Pullover. This sweater was made with Cascade 220 Superwash Sport. I'm looking forward to seeing how this design looks in different color combinations! This is a free pattern, so hop on over and download the pdf.

I do want to mention that the colorwork chart in this design is adapted from patterns shown in Andrea Rangel's excellent Knitovation Stitch Dictionary. I credited Andrea's book in my pattern draft, but the acknowledgement is missing from the published version.

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We'll be back to our regularly scheduled conversations about knitting and books next week. Thanks for your continued support and your kind words.

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Some things that caught my eye…

• Austin Kleon compiled some thoughts on work/life balance and the inevitable tension between family obligations and creative work in this terrific blog post. I especially appreciated his acknowledgement of the greater burdens born by women.

• Iceland is a bucket-list destination for many knitters. I was happy to see The New York Times publish a travel story written from the perspective of a knitter.

1. Dehision = the opposite of adhesion. It’s just as bad as it sounds.

2. https://www.target.com/p/drive-medical-steel-folding-bedside-commode/