I am such a control freak that I am trying to control my recuperation. Yet here I sit at 12.34 am in the morning, on my couch, frustrated with myself. Getting a bionic neck (ok whatever) has been no fun at all. This recuperation is not going according to script. I was supposed to have surgery, take meds, feel better, the end.
I am exhausted. Anesthesia has really kicked my behind. Pain is also showing its ugly little face, and the side effects of the pain meds are having all kinds of ridiculous effects on my anatomy.
I turned off the laptop hours ago. I didn’t even have the patience to read the junky magazines a friend dropped off for me at the hospital that require less than one brain cell to read.
I want to just rest. But I am just not comfortable. I want to whine and moan and howl at the moon. I just had surgery and I totally need to give myself a break. But my body is not letting me sleep and I need it so badly.
I’ve done nothing all day long except for loll around eating ice cream and chocolate, and that has sapped my strength. I hugged the kids. I spent time with the KoD. I have done everything as prescribed by the doctors. I haven’t worked in days – I am totally giving myself 100% chance to heal.
It’s time for my body to sleep. I have a zillion pillows. None of which help. I want to curl up into a ball and cry. I do. OK I just did. And I feel totally ridiculous about whining – but it’s my blog and I get to do that as much as I want when I want. and I shouldn’t have to apologize for it.
I am not a patient person. I am probably an awful patient. KoD is being so calm and patient with me – he must be a total saint.
The nights are hard. Everyone is asleep. Peacefully. I look at their innocent little faces and I am filled with love and gratitude that they are home safe with me, and that Ima will soon be back to normal (ha!) looking after them again.
But for now, I just want to cry.
In the Pink 