The secret to recovery is the right mix of pain meds, rest, and binge watching. Get that formula right and you may even forget that 12 days ago you spent 12-hours on a cold metal table being cut apart and sewn back together.
The truth is, I am kind of amazed by how quickly my body is healing. It’s pretty remarkable. So much of the bruising has faded, my mobility is good, and now that those nasty rotten drains are gone, I feel like a new woman. I never once questioned my decision to hand myself over to Dr. F and Dr. P. They are beyond question my dream team, my saviors. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like in that operating room, but it’s clear that it was just another day at the office for those two. And thank god for that.
My mom flew home yesterday, just a few hours ahead of another storm. This winter… talk about discontent. I am so grateful for the time my mom was here, for the comfort and help — I could not have made it through the first 10 days post surgery without her. The woman knows her caregiving.
But now we are back to our little family of three and my boys, these incredible men, they are, stepping in and stepping up in every possible way. My husband, who in the weeks and days prior to my surgery, had to leave the room for a blood draw, is taking care of my incisions, and anticipating my every need. My son is doing laundry, cleaning the kitchen, and providing large amounts of comic relief. They are fantastic, these two, and I have never loved them more.
Recovery may be all about the right mix of pain meds, rest and binge watching, but it’s also about peace of mind. Knowing that my back up team has a back up team — there are no words to thank our family and friends who continue to go out of their way to make it easier for all of us. With each passing day I can and will do a little bit more on my own. The truth is, I never thought I’d be doing this much this soon. It’s not a lot, really, the things I can do on my own, but each new accomplishment is something to celebrate.
We are well on our way to finding a new normal. And the gaps, well, I am learning to live with them, to be okay with some things being a little undone. Two days ago my friends and my family were convinced I needed to find someone to come in and help this week, someone to help me dress, get me lunch, do a bit of light housework. Last night the three of us worked as a team in the kitchen to get dinner ready. I mostly pointed and stirred, the boys did the heavy lifting and the clean up. This morning I showered and dressed entirely on my own. What I had agreed to two days ago seems pointless now. I’m going to be just fine for the few hours a day while my son is at school and my husband is at work. I don’t need help.
And that’s the thing. It is all changing, moving so quickly. And thank god for that. I am hopeful and strong. We’re getting the formula right. Soon this piece of it will be behind us.
I remember listening in disbelief a few weeks ago as my surgeons told me what to expect post-surgery. “I’ll never get to that point,” I thought. But I have and I will. I am. I’m recovering. And it’s a remarkable thing.