This is what recovery looks like.

*****

Here I am, eight days post L hip arthroplasty. 

That's the medical term for "hip replacement," 

and I like to say it because it sounds more elegant 

and scientific 

to this ol' girl's soul. 

The day of surgery came and went, in the blink of an eye, 

and I was home before sunset. 

My Allies have been front-and-centre, at my side, 24/7, 

and Mister Jones has been doing his best at taking care of his own immediate needs

as I tend to my own immediate needs, 

just as I promised. 

We snowshoe'd the day before surgery, 

Berr Bear, Maxwell Smart, and I. 

I needed to have it imprinted upon my memory 

and my soul, 

where I feel most myself at my very cellular core, 

and that's up on Coyote Hill, 

amidst the prayerful quiet of the forests. 

*

I am most grateful to my brilliant surgeon and his capable assistant, 

and the few folks tending to me before I relaxed into surgical sleep. 

The suite was something out of a sci-fi setting, 

too much to take-in all at once, 

the room a'buzz with many helper bees, 

but I did ask my surgeon, 

"is that my robot?!" 

when I lay'd eyes upon the MAKO Robotics Unit in the centre of the surgical suite. 

He said, "yes," and proceeded to briefly explain the images uploaded therein. 

From there, I was readied for the procedure, 

protective wrappings applied to my lower extremities

as I raised my legs of my own physical and emotional will, 

wanting to be part-of, 

my ankles then secured in stabilizing boots affixed to the table. 

My anaesthesiologist was a beautiful, calm, knowledgeable woman, 

the surgical nurse, funny, talkative, male, 

and reassuring. 

I asked them both, 

"please let me know when I am about to be given the surgical sleep medicine." 

Right about then, I was told to take some deep, restful breaths, 

"we're giving you the injection,"

and then, I was asleep.

*

And, now, here I am. 

My Allies have been front-and-centre, at my side, 24/7, 

with Mister Jones has been doing his best at taking care of his own immediate needs

as I tend to my own immediate needs, 

just as I promised. 

Healing comes in the form of drinking plenty of water, 

taking-in nutrient-dense foods, 

and swallowing mitochondrial-supportive supplements. 

I knit. 

I nap. 

I move about the house. 

I sleep soundly at noc so that my body can heal itself behind the scenes. 

I stand at the kitchen window, gazing out, 

and sometimes on the deck, gazing outwards, 

promising myself to take life one day at a time, 

one moment at a time, 

because Coyote Hill is always waiting for me, 

just out there.....

*****