On day seven of an 11-day stay at our house, Mary Virginia asked my mom, “Grammy, do you enjoy coming to visit your grandchildren?”
I held my breath as I waited to hear her answer. My mom stayed with us for nearly five weeks after my tendon repair surgery. Even after changing all the diapers (diaper tabs is one of the things I couldn’t do), cleaning way more than I do in a normal week, folding laundry, and dealing with her three whiny, demanding, insufferable grandchildren all day, she answered honestly, “Yes, Mary Virginia, I love visiting my grandchildren.”
Before my surgery I didn’t really know how I’d be affected by the healing process. I’d been (unknowingly) managing just fine with a severed tendon for 12 days, and I figured things would be the same post-surgery. The procedure was at 11 a.m. on a Thursday and I figured I’d be fine to take the kids to preschool the next morning.
We weren’t sure what sort of anesthesia I’d be having, and after talking to a nurse I called my mom and asked, “Hey. Do you mind being on call Friday? Just in case?”
“I’ll come Thursday evening,” she replied. And then she basically moved in because, turns out, I was not fine to take the kids to preschool the next morning.
My post-surgery recovery is different than recovery from the original injury because the original injury was just run-of-the-mill stitches. Post-surgery involves allowing my tendon to heal without rupturing it. If I had a rupture, we’d have to start this all over.
“What are some ways you could rupture your tendon?” you ask.
I’m so glad you asked! Here are some possibilities:
- quickly reaching for a child that’s, say, running toward a busy street or body of water
- quickly grasping that child’s arm
- lifting a child
- irresponsible use of the pincer grip while stress-eating Cheetos
Ok. I made up that last one. But you get the idea.
Everything I couldn’t do, my mom did. And maybe most impressive, she put up with all my whining.
But then again she’s been dealing with that for 34 years, so she should be used to it.