Recovery & Patience

 

Recovery & Patience

Recovery is a process. It takes times. It takes patience.

I have just had calf lengthening surgery on the right leg, the same surgery I had 18 months ago on the left leg. Having been through this before you’d think I’d be better prepared. In some ways I was but in others I was totally unprepared. I’d forgotten how boring it could be when you can’t move and have your leg in plaster for 2 weeks. I knew I’d have to rely on other people to do things for me but even though I knew that it was still extremely difficult for me to do. I certainly was not prepared for the cockroach I stood on with my bare foot at 2am in the morning when I went to the loo. That really could have ended in disaster-half asleep and crutches, need I say more? Lucky I’m not squeamish so all ended pretty well, unfortunately not so well for the cockroach haha. I swear these things happen to me just so I have a story to tell.

I actually thought I was not dealing with this as well as I had the first time around but apparently, according to others, I was in fact coping better this time around. Let me tell you though, it has been hard and at times I felt like I was a crazy woman, or maybe just going mad. I knew my situation was temporary but it still affected my headspace to a great extent.

The little patience I have was once again tested. Some days I simply felt like stopping. It was so much effort to just have a shower, brush my teeth or even to make lunch or a cup of tea-so much easier just to have an apple or banana because I could just put them in my pocket. I sometimes felt it was all too much trouble and just wanted to go and lie back down, on the couch, the floor, whatever was closest. The rational part of me knew that if I just kept on going it would be okay and guess what, it was. It doesn’t matter how slowly you go as long as you don’t stop.

I also wasn’t prepared for the frustration and the sometimes extreme emotional reactions due to not being able to do something. I felt like a child having a tantrum. Honestly some days I just wanted to cry even though the normal, thinking part of my brain knew this was only going to last for 2 weeks. I wrote most of this when I still had plaster on and now as I sit here with my moon boot on (and I can move if I want to) and go over what I wrote I cringe at myself and my behavior, even if it was only in my head. If I didn’t right all this down at the time I probably wouldn’t have believed the stories myself or conveniently forgotten some of it to suit me. Mind you my head was a little fuzzy at times, thanks to the anesthesia, so I thought it best not to press the publish button until I had proof read my own words.

To add to my frustrations, impatience and self-pity, I was also feeling quite vulnerable; both physically and emotionally. Having spent my adult life supporting and looking after myself I find it really difficult not being able to do stuff for myself. And then there is always the ‘what if something happens to me’ question (you know what if I trip over and rip open my stitches or knock myself out scenarios…and yes, I watch far too many horror movies but still manage to never have my phone on me just in case). At this juncture however I tend to put my faith in the higher powers. It’s outta my hands and whatever will be, will be.

I still have bruises on my belly from injecting myself with anti clotting stuff, my ankle is bruised and sore from goodness knows what (who knows what they do you while you’re under lol) and I now have matching scars on my calves. (I kid you not they are identical in length and position, that if I didn’t know better I’d say the surgeon cheated and just copied the other leg). The physical scars I carry remind me of how lucky I am; they remind to never take things for granted; even something as simple as making a cup of tea and not having to drag it across the floor with my crutch, while it’s resting on a tea towel-my tried and true method really does work and came through for me one again!

It has really given me to time to pause and reflect. The simple things in life are the best things in life. To be able walk, to vacuum, to check your mailbox, and I do harp on about it but to simply make your own cup of tea!

I do hope that my own mental drama helps someone else in a similar position realise that you’re not alone, and that ‘this too shall pass’. Patience and gratitude to you all.

Suzi xx