The End of the Blog

You may have noticed there hasn't been a new post here for a while. Since Mick's overall condition gets a little better every day, your blogger felt that posting daily was risking overshare, going into too much detail just to have something to write about. So here endeth The Back Story--but not without a few words from the man himself:

My many hats are off to: Dr. Kuflik and everyone at Beth Israel Spine Institute... they've already returned to me an ease of daily life I'd frankly almost forgotten; to all our pals who've sent out their support and good vibes (it worked!); and to Blogger, RN whose careful tending was matched only by his patience, constant encouragement, and relentless cheerfulness.

Oh wait a minute, it's not June? We're not at Radio City? This isn't the Tony Awards?

Wow what a difference 3 weeks makes! It's hard for me to believe that it was only 21 days ago I was staring into the bottom of a martini glass wondering what was to be -- the pain in my back being obliterated by the yellow stripe I was quickly growing there instead.

I admit I don't remember much about my temporary residence at 16th Street and 1st Avenue, but I do know that whenever the first day was that they got me up and out of bed I knew immediately the op had been completely successful.

And then getting out of there and being home just a few days later was a super -- and welcome -- surprise.

Even though we'd been shown it a few months ago when we began this process and it was all still theoretical, equally surprising was being at the doc's this past week and seeing a model of a human spine with only 3 verts fused, and realizing there's about a coffee mug-full of hardware in me, literally screwed into my back (which answers the question why am I not lifting a buzz off all the drugs I'm taking.)

I'm feeling great. I love it that every day I'm better than I was the day before. I'm looking forward to getting back to my regular gig of outfoxing producers and general managers by day and hanging out by night.

It's corny, I know, but ain't life grand!

Tuesday, Briefly

Not much to report. Mick's sleeping seems to get a little better each night, and this afternoon he managed another nap. This morning he took a walk in his much-more-comfortable XXL footwear. Hope to post a photo of that soon.

An Excursion

Today’s post-op check-up was to see not the surgeon himself, but rather a nurse practitioner in his office, an energetic dude named Ed. He said Mick was doing well, and that both incisions were healing very nicely. He took the little bandages off the anterior incision (already just a hairline seam), and with sterile tweezers and great care set about removing the sutures from the back incision. Mick stood with his hands on the examining table while Ed sat on a stool and went to work. It reminded me of two things: 1) Scarlett holding the bedpost while her corset strings are yanked, and 2) removing hooks from fish. I’m not terribly squeamish about stuff like this but the couple of times Mick yelled Ow, I flinched sympathetically. When the sutures were all gone, our boy was noticeably more comfortable.

This morning Mick’s feet were more swollen than ever, likely a result of yesterday’s spirited stroll, and he could barely get into his sneakers and socks. We had sort of expected Ed to prescribe a diuretic or something, but he said that the swelling was a normal neurological response to this kind of surgery (for some reason the nerves in the back decide to send fluid to the lower half of the body), and that the situation would correct itself in time. Later in the day, blogger had an appointment in the Union Square area, and went shopping on 14th Street. Mick now has socks for shoe sizes 12-to-16, and a blindingly white pair of size 12 sneakers. He’s already tried them on, and they fit nicely. While his new posture and bearing preclude proper gangsta swagger, wearing them he looks a little like he could have been rapping on the Grammys last night.

Sunday Afternoon

The temperature in Manhattan got up into the mid 50s today, a sneak peek of spring. Mick woke up feeling strong and happy. Late morning, we walked toward the little park by the river. On the way we ran into someone Mick greeted enthusiastically—it was the cardiologist from Beth Israel who performed the post-op EKGs and who became his pal. It turns out his office is just a block east of us. This encounter elevated Mick’s already high spirits. We went to Sutton Place Park, the little brick-paved square paved at the east end of 57th Street, overlooking the river. It was a beautiful day. Mick tried sitting on one of the benches. While they are classic and decorative, they are not designed with recovering back surgery patients in mind, so instead of tarrying, we headed south on Sutton Place. Mick gave a spirited commentary about who he knew who lived or had lived in each building we passed.





We walked all the way to 54th, where there’s an even smaller “park,” flush with the roar of the FDR Drive. Then we headed home.

Tomorrow is the first post-op visit to the surgeon. While this blog has recounted Mick’s surgery experience in probably too much detail, your blogger must say here that the patient has from the beginning referred the procedure as a kind of miracle. Yes, there is ongoing pain and discomfort and inconvenience, but Mick knows all that is temporary. The pain that caused him to have the surgery in the first place was gone more or less immediately afterward. He says he almost can’t remember it now. That’s a good thing.

Saturday

Two steps forward and a half step back. Friday was Mick’s best post-surgery day so far, and at dinner he ate heartily. He slept a little better, too, and woke feeling good, but achy enough to forgo today’s walk. The swelling in his feet continues to plague him; not only are they fat like sausages, but very sensitive, especially on the soles. For all the years I have known him, he’s been militantly barefoot at home, but right now surfaces like the sisal rug feel like gravel to him. At his request, blogger went out and got him a pair of slippers (probably the first he’s owned as an adult), size twelve and unfortunately a perfect fit. His sister Penny came up from Philadelphia for an afternoon visit (Tim had to work), and he laughed like a kid at her stories. He snoozed for a little while later on, which I believe to be a sign of healing—though the pain med regimen he’s on is enough to put Keith Richards under, the pain, even when sublimated, is a kind of relentless stimulant, so I have to think these catnaps are a sign of healing.

TGIF

After his best night to date (the pain and meds still make it impossible to sleep through, but he’s sleeping more), Mick was full of piss and vinegar today. He said he realized he’d been trying to do too much; there’s a seduction in trying to best your own achievements every day. As a result, today was the best day since the surgery. In the morning he walked all the way around the block, and then across First Avenue, past Sutton Place, and into the little park (if you can call an entirely paved area that) overlooking the river. While we were there, I was able to cajole him into the close-up-with-moustache some of you have been asking for:

Mick's sister Penny and brother-in-law Tim are coming up from Philadelphia tomorrow for a brief visit. Here's to more good days!

Thursday

Mick slept better last night than the night before, but is still not sleeping through. This morning we went for a walk, but could not repeat yesterday’s twice-around-the-block run; we managed it once, a little slower than last time. The pain proved harder to stay ahead of today. Mick is on a prescribed regimen of a painkiller every twelve hours, a muscle relaxant every eight hours, and another painkiller every four to six hours as needed—we’ve been able to set the clock by the schedule this of this last one, as it wears off around the three-hour mark. It became clear yesterday that there wasn’t enough of the short-term painkiller to last until his first post-op visit to Dr. Kuflik Monday, so Mick called and got a new prescription. Perhaps unsurprisingly, none of the pharmacies in our latitudes had enough of that particular medication to fill it, so your blogger went back downtown to the Walgreens across from Beth Israel, where they address needs like this more regularly. We also got a telescoping cane at Duane Reade, because the custom-cut one from the hospital now seems too short, perhaps as a result of the patient’s improving confidence, posture, and height. The swelling continues to be an annoyance. Other than that, our boy is doing well. Your blogger was unable to get a photo of the increasingly suave and distinguished moustache today, but hopes to do so tomorrow.