Ain’t Misbehavin’ (Much)

July in Rodanthe, 2011

Okay, I promised a blog post yesterday and forgot that, as fast as things seem to be moving for me these days, they are at a fraction of the pre-June 27th speed.  It’s not just the physical movement that’s slow, but also the fact that, as my surgeon told my husband, “She’s a bleeder,” and I have a very low red blood count right now thanks to that.

Blood is important, turns out.  I had to have some extra before it was all over, and it will be a while before my body picks up the slack.  That’s okay.  We are eleven days post-surgery, we have fancy new hip joint that doesn’t hurt us, our back has stopped with the fierce spasm it had for nine days, and we are so grateful for so many things.

I have the most fantastic spouse in the world, although he just sees himself as doing the things that a half of a couple is supposed to do when the other half is gimped up.  He tenderly gets me into bed at night and aligned in a way that lets me sleep.  He brings me milkshakes.  He gives me an injection of blood-thinner every morning because I am too wimpy to give myself a shot.  He comes into our room at midnight to tell me he is learning how to play “Be Thou My Vision” on the banjo.  I thought I was imagining that one, but it turns out to be true.

He keeps our spirits up.

I have fantastic friends and family.  I actually already knew this, but when the rubber really met the road, y’all were right there with me, bringing food, visiting, taking care of so many little things and allowing me to rest and start healing.  I am loving the visits, so don’t stop now!  It will be a while before I can really get out and go places.

Two days post-op, with Sunflowers.

Prayer matters.  It felt like a blanket.  It’s not the outcome-based shallow stuff of bumper stickers, but a blanket of love that proved, once again, that it’s not what happens that matters nearly as much as knowing that whatever happens will be all right.  (And hey, once again, don’t knock off now.)

I have to give myself some grace.  I did not anticipate some post-surgical things that have been most discombobulating.  Most days, I start out bright, but feel myself

gradually trickling away until I’m in the state of can’t-quite-wake-up.  I feel unfocused and distant, and the first thing I noticed is my decreased attention span – I have a stack of things I saved to read when I was recuperating, only to find that they’re all over my head.  I can just about manage a comic strip.  Disappointing.

The second thing I’ve found is that I have no energy available for creative things, whether they are paint, fabric, or words. I feel  a bit like a well where the water table has suddenly dropped – before the 27th, I had creative energy fizzing all over the place; afterward, it must be all focused on acclimating to the new hip.  The post-op goals I had set for myself seem ridiculously naïve now, but I have to let them go and give myself the grace just to be.

The overwhelming balance of my life right now is positive – good outcome, good aftercare, good vibes as I look future-ward.  It may be a little slower in coming than I thought, but we’re gonna get there.  I’m so grateful for all of this love, support, and gentleness, but I gotta go take a rest now . . .  J

Thursday evening, eight days post surgery. Woot!

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