Preparing Children for Recovery

Jim and I thought we had all the bases covered with the kids regarding his knee replacement surgery: We talked about the operation itself, the doctor and the nurses, how long he would be in the hospital, and how this operation would help Jim feel better. What we failed to do was describe what ‘better’ would look like.

Jim’s three-day, two-night stay was anything but restful. Morning rounds with the orthopedic surgeon and his team kicked-off at around 6:00 a.m., followed by Jim’s pain management specialist, and then an ongoing stream throughout the day and evening of nurses, physical therapists, medical social workers, home health aides, case managers, an RN supervisor and finally an occupational therapist.

Physical therapy started the day of surgery, with two therapists helping Jim walk from his bed to an oversized chair twelve hours after arriving in his hospital room. With a nerve block in place and a personally-controlled pain pump in hand, Jim had tubes and wires everywhere: Oxygen tubes were clipped to his nose, compression balloons were strapped to his legs to prevent blood clots, one contraption pumped ice water to the incision site, another mechanical contraption automatically flexed and straightened his leg with or without his permission, and his intravenous pump kept necessary fluids and pain medication flowing at a constant stream. Medicated and sleep deprived, Jim looked like hell.

As his days were busy and by evening Jim was tired, we decided to keep Jordan and Jamie away from the hospital. He spoke with them on the phone constantly, assuring them he was doing well and getting better, but he needed his evenings to sleep. Once Jim was able to walk up and down stairs with the assistance of the physical therapist, he would be discharged from the hospital. Each day I came home from the hospital, I shared how well Jim was doing and that he would be home before the weekend.

We forgot the perception difference between adults and children: Jim left the house in high spirits, excited to have the surgery behind him, clean-shaven and walking with a cane; he returned hunched over a walker, moving like a turtle, motivating the staircase with baby steps, wearing compression stockings and a scruffy stubble on his face. Jim did not look ‘better’ by any stretch of the imagination to Jordan and Jamie, he looked worse.

“Dad walks like an old man,” Jordan worried. “He can’t drive himself around, and now he can barely walk at all. His knee still hurts, but you said he was better.”

Jim and I were so focused on keeping Jordan and Jamie calm about Jim’s surgery and safety during the hospital stay, we forgot to share how long recuperation and physical therapy would take to bring Jim’s knee back to normal, back to better.

Jim’s surgery is one week and one day behind him: Five physical therapy sessions at home have left Jim tired and sore, but take place when the kids are at school. The family is beginning to fall back into its normal routine, with homework and play dates and crazy dinner hours to accommodate everyone’s schedules.

Jordan and Jamie are adjusting to Jim’s recovery, and have even taken to teasing him about his white pantyhose and bed head hair. Slowly but surely, our family is healing, and is getting better.