Ok, ok... Whatever you say, Doc. I thought, no, it'll be easier for me. All od his other whip pile surgery patients are 70 year old men, not 29 year old moms.
Ha. I was wrong.
Recovery is difficult on many levels.
First, there's the physical pain. Oh my geeze. I live with chronic pain, so I thought that the pain wouldn't be horrible. Again, I was wrong. I'm an Anderson... I don't know how to be wrong!
Pain is constant... There's the dull ache that never leaves. Then there are gas cramps. Wow. That's like a tiny war going on in my body. I also have, towards the time when my mess run out of juice, sharp, stabbing pain. It's so much fun. Not,
Next, there's the nausea. So, for over 18 months, I've thrown up daily. So, again, I thought, no problem. Ha. I want to puke constantly. Car rides are unbearable. I want to chug nausea medication. The room seems to always spin, and my stomach is in knots. At night, I do a tube feeding through a J tube. This is nearly unbearable. I get sick every night, one way or the other (aren't you glad you're reading this!?) and always want to turn the feeding off early.
Then there's all the rules. That I don't want to follow. No lifting. So, sweet kiddos... I can't pick you up. I've become quite the rule breaker with this. Medications at certain times. Tube feelings. Drinking lots and lots. Eating frequent meals. It's exhausting being a rule breaker!
Plus, I'm super emotional. When I get cards, or gifts, or messages, or emails, I cry, happy tears... As well as tears of holy wow, why do I deserve this? I'm struggling with the outpouring of concern and love, because before this... Before recovery, before cancer, there were days when I would have given my right arm for a friend. So, I'm so very happy, but a little sad inside. Crazy, right?! I also get emotional from the pain, getting sick, not being able to parent like I want, and my household duties being done by others, and not my way. I just want things to be normal at home... I want to be able to do laundry and dishes, and sort them all my way... And the struggle of giving this up has become emotionally draining. And it's plain out dumb... Because I am so very fortunate that my parents are here helping.
So, my days are spent with my mom nagging me to drink more, pain, nausea, emotional mishaps, and exhaustion. Anyone want to trade lives?
I shouldn't complain. I am lucky that there were clear margins, and that I'm alive. I am lucky for the amazing people that are in my life. I am lucky to be a mom, no matter what ability I have at this moment to do so.
I'm ready for recovery to end. I'm ready to see if there are further steps... Chemo. I'm ready to get life back on track.
Melissa
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