Knee Surgery, Day 3

If you want to see just how bad the roads and streets are in the Town of Collingwood, just drive over them a few hours after knee or other surgery. The roads around the hospital are excruciatingly painful, almost nausea-inducing when you hit one of the *many* deep ruts, potholes, or bumps, and the pain explodes. I know, because this was my experience two days ago.

But so are the rest of the streets we drove on, on our way home. Some of these streets have ankle-deep potholes, others have been left to decay for decades. But the town doesn’t fix them. Instead, work crews throw a shovelful of cold patch into the worst holes and drive off. The first few cars that drive over them lift the gravel out on their tires, and the potholes soon return. There are potholes on our street that have not been properly repaired in the 35 years we’ve lived here.

Collingwood’s many poor-quality roads are an embarrassment and an insult to residents. How is it that the Town of Collingwood has let our roads get so bad? What does this neglect say to newcomers and visitors? Isn’t it bad enough that the town neglects its gardens around facilities, its trees on boulevards and in parks, and lets them die of neglect during a drought?

But back to my knee. Progress? None; or rather a very small increment on my long journey to recovery. But it’s early days yet. I will stick to the exercises (those I can do). Stairs and toilets are the worst for me. But getting up from and into bed is difficult still, as is sitting down and standing up from a chair or couch. If it weren’t for Susan’s help, I couldn’t do very much at all. And my arms and hands ache from the pressure of leaning on the walker and cane.

Our daily routines are all screwed up, and Bella, our dog, is troubled by it. I used to take her out for her morning and evening pee every day, but now it’s Susan’s job and Bella doesn’t understand why. She’s lying on the carpet at the bedside as I type this, not even bothering to go downstairs for her morning feed. She’s confused about why I can’t get up and care for her.

I have my first physio session booked for next week. I hope I shape for it. I’ve read that I will be able to walk without assistive devices in 3-4 weeks, and might be able to drive in 4-6, depending on the status of my recovery. Right now, that seems a long way off and I’d be happy just to be able to go up and down the stairs without grief and pain. Staples don’t come out for another 12 days (13? not sure when they count the two weeks from). After that, I will be able to shower properly, not just wash from the sink.

I don’t expect to be able to go outside to walk around the neighbourhood for another week or more. And it will be a challenge when I do: my heavily-potholed street has no sidewalks, and what sidewalks there are on adjacent streets are in poor condition; not smooth, and are often blocked by people parking on them (town bylaw officers don’t bother to patrol the community to prevent such abuses). Since my surgery, I have developed an enhanced empathy for people with mobility issues here, but the town doesn’t seem to care. But we should take heart that council always gives itself a raise every year for the privilege of ignoring our streets and sidewalks.

So today: more exercises, more drugs, more pain. Sigh.

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