I conveniently forgot that the second day after surgery sucks. The kind that makes you cry for your mommy and leads you down a whiney path. That was me yesterday. Full on helpless. I couldn’t put any weight on my right leg, so thank goodness I had crutches from an earlier incident. Then all of my support staff left me. Not in a mean way, of course, but they had work and school to attend to while Brian was still out of town. A small group of ladies came to visit, which rejuvenated my spirit, but after they left, the silence was deafening and my willingness to fend for myself sounded like too much effort. So, I spent the day on the couch awaiting for my beloved children to rescue me.
Yes, I sound dramatic. My reality is that I convinced myself that I am invincible only to learn that sometimes surrendering is the only course of action. I hate that feeling of dependence and vulnerability. It annoyed me that getting up and going to the bathroom seemed like too much work. Sure, I had people that offered to hang out and help, but I was like a screaming toddler and really didn’t know what I wanted. Nothing was going to make me happy and the pain, both physical and mental, was excruciating. Honestly, I am the worst patient ever. By the way, I think using the word “patient” to describe someone healing is odd considering I am far from the poster child of being patient. Patience is NOT my virtue.
Today, things appear brighter. Brian is home. (I am sure he is wishing he were still in New York as I have him running around doing everything.) I graduated from crutches to my Dad’s walker. (Yes, the visual is funny.) I changed my underwear and put on deodorant. (You’re welcome.) I am writing, which is indicative that there is light at the end of this tunnel. It also makes me extremely grateful for all the support that I have acquired, the delicious food that has been prepared for me, and most of all the time people have spent just checking in with me. If I surrender, the healing process can proceed and I am sure that God will be happy that my bitching will come to an end. Surrendering isn’t always graceful, but it does open the door for acceptance.
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