We thought that you may have missed our more regular postings, so Scott and I are catching up today. Scott felt that my last note (Sept 22 - What Surgery Feels Like) may have been a little raw and negative, so I'm hoping to keep my attitude in check this time. No promises. Sometimes I'm a bit sarcastic - it's genetic.
Physically, I've made a lot of improvements. I'm weaning off the heavier prescription meds, using them mostly to get more comfortable rest at night. I still have a tight band of numbness around my chest that makes deep breathing difficult, and occasional sharp stabs especially along the left side where the lung drain was and along the sternal borders on both sides. It is uncomfortable to rest my arms at their sides because my armpits are numb. I hunch up and walk around like a football player with a shortened left arm. Weird. The back of my left arm feels like the funny bone keeps getting bumped. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ow!
The toughest part is emotional. I'm not comfortable being emotional - more of a get up, get it done, suck-it-up-and-move-on kind of person. (That's why I'm such a great encouragement to therapy patients, right?) I'm good with empathy and patience for a couple days max. Soooo... I'm stuck. This is taking WAY longer than I planned. I adore all the help and support we're getting - we couldn't function as a family without it (and sometimes it's still sketchy, like Skyler's homework not getting done and none of the three school fundraisers being even acknowledged). But I feel guilty, and weak, and so incredibly tired.
My kind friend Tammy reminded me yesterday of the spiel I give post-surgical patients all the time. "Your body's been through a major trauma, it often takes 4-8 weeks to get your energy back. You'll find swelling and odd sore places off and on for several months and may even have times of fatigue 6 to 12 months later. This is all typical of the process... yada yada yada." But most of those people are at least over 70. Shouldn't I sail through in at least half-time? I'm only 33! (Of course, my mom says I've been this age since I was 3... maybe that's having some effect.) Sometimes, in darker teary moments, I envy those patients. They're often retired, living in a paid-for home with a supportive retired spouse, worrying about getting back to the library book club or golf course. Ah, the golden years... (anyone in geriatrics knows I'm kidding.)
Enough about me. I'm too tired for any more whining. Hope all is fantastic with all our family and friends. Mel
1 comment:
Man, you two are cute together! Thanks for adding the picture! Keep up the blogging. You guys have quite a story to tell AND you tell it so well.
Love from across the miles~
Emily
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