Turning the Final Corner…
Weeks ago, my therapist asked me what lesson I was supposed to learn during this 8-week incarceration. Here’s what I’ve come up with thus far.
- Family is everything and friends are the family I choose for myself: If not for the support of my family, especially during the first two weeks after surgery, I hate to think where I’d be on this road to recovery. I’m not going to sugarcoat it; I was in fucking hell the first two weeks after my surgery. Numerous folks warned me that the recovery from rotator cuff surgery was a rough one, and they were correct. Now, add onto that, the paralyzing pain, I mentally inflicted upon myself. If not for family…I don’t even want to think about it.
- “This too shall pass like gas through the ass”: My father shared many pearls of wisdom throughout his lifetime, and this statement, although it offended me in my tender years, is absolutely true. It was usually followed up with, “Just keep sucking air.” which is also true. With each passing day, with each passing week, I have embraced the fact that I am indeed, still alive. Not only am I alive, I’m healing and slowly regaining my functionality. I had surgery on my left shoulder, so I have had to use my right arm for many more tasks than I used to. I’ve come to realize that my right arm is now, much more flexible and since I can’t use my left arm for any sort of leverage, my thighs are stronger too. Forced isometrics, if you will, is also hopefully improving my balance.
- Sometimes I need to be bullied: My youngest child is not a delicate flower and can be rather harsh with me; a.k.a. an asshole. However, because of his uncouth manner, I have eliminated some clutter from my basement and have managed to walk 1 mile, with a cane, but still, 1 mile without stopping, on a cold rainy morning. I begrudgingly thanked the asshole for pushing me towards my potential.
- It’s okay to be still: I hate wasting time. Why not do yesterday, what is expected of you tomorrow? This is basically the motto I live by. I am very detail oriented, I have a keen sense of time management, hence, I get shit done. Even with my left arm in a sling, I have used my right arm and feet to do a whole lot of stuff. Please, do not ever tell me I can’t do something, unless it’s really something you want me to do, because I will do it, well, and in half the time most mere mortals will accomplish the task. However, I have learned, especially when medicated, I simply can’t do, all I want to do, when I want to do it, if I’m recuperating from surgery. Sometimes, I need to sit in my garden, listen to my fountains, and work on my tan lines. Maybe, even read a book, and you know what? The world will keep spinning without me.
- Don’t be afraid: I don’t think I need to tell you, but the world is on fire. I’m doing all I can, within my means, to be a good scout and be prepared. I’m also pushing myself to do all that I can do, without being stupid, and possibly hurting myself. I don’t think I could endure another surgery, but at the same time, I hate pretending that I’m some delicate flower. I have pushed myself and I think I’m better for it. My physical therapist tells me that I’m doing very well and I tell him, that I think it’s because I’m not playing it safe 24/7. I need to live! I need to pull my pants up, all the way up, on both sides, and that requires two hands, so… I don’t do anything that hurts, but if I can push myself, I do. My daddy didn’t raise some candy-assed pansy.
- I’m turning the final corner…of the first stage of my recovery: I told my physical therapist about my blog. Not surprisingly, he could identify with my last one titled Pain. He shared his story about how powerful our minds our and I think, we may have bonded. I told him that I felt like I have turned a corner, that I am doing much better and I do not believe I will allow any more mental crises to impeded my healing. He agreed, that I have turned the final corner of stage one of my healing. Yes, I almost forgot, I have at least another 6 months ahead of me, if not more than a year, to truly regain the use of my left arm. Tears welled up in my eyes as I typed that, but you know what? I can do it, I will continue to heal and improve, and one day, I will be able to lift my arm and place the heavy glass nested bowls on the second shelf of my cupboard like I used to.
Ten more days. I don’t see how I could not receive my medical release when I go to my doctor’s appointment in ten more days. Oh, to be released from my 8-week sentence and return to my life of driving to my heart’s content and resuming my mundane life of work-eat-sleep-repeat. It hasn’t been a cake walk, but I believe I have used my time wisely. There’s so much more that I could accomplish, but I do have ten more days, so who knows, might be I will be able to check off a few more items on my to-do-list. No matter, I feel I have learned my lessons well and I will do my best to not fall back into my old habits of working way past an 8-hour work day. Instead, I will use those few extra hours of my day to connect with family and possibly dare to waste some time doing absolutely nothing. It’s time to turn the final corner and begin stage two. I’ll keep you posted.
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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