To aid in the prevention of blood clots in my legs, my docs have instructed me to wear compression stockings for four weeks...I've got 17 more days to go.
For the record, I hate the compression stockings. Its like putting on a pair of super strength thigh-high pantyhose that are 10 sizes too small. I never liked pantyhose in the first place - this adventure reaffirms my belief that pantyhose are for torture, not fashion.
These stockings cause a muffin top effect so extreme at the top of my thighs that they look like two chef hats perched above my knees. It's gross.
I'm also not allowed to bend more than 90-degrees right now, so my legs haven't been shaved since the replacement. As the hair on my legs grows, it's getting caught in the weave of the compression stockings.
This is an awful sensation.
Leg hairs get pulled up and down as I crutch about the house. When the stockings begin to slip because the grippy band at the top of the stockings is not worth a crap, I reach down to pull them up, again pulling my leg hairs and agitating the raw, bruised skin on my legs.
I have cankles...I don't know if this is being caused by the compression stockings or not, but because I hate the way they feel - I'll blame them.
The only up side to these way too tight, super unsexy pieces of hospital lingerie is that they hide the very odd bluish tint that is developing from the bruising in my legs...not enough of a benefit to make me happy.
In 17 days I'm going to take great delight in feeling my leg hairs blowing in the wind instead of being mashed and pulled in the damn socks. That will be invigorating.