I’m floating in and out of sadness. Every once in a while it catches up to me like a bad childhood memory. I try to face it at times. I also try and run away. But mostly I remain on auto-pilot. I envision myself just like the cat that has a balloon wrapped around the midline of its body — floating into the same sky I did mere months ago. I’m physically, mentally and spiritually exhausted. I’m spent in ways I didn’t know I could be.
I go a few steps forward and everything seems okay in the world again. I enjoy daylight and saying yes to people who ask for small favors. I try and walk unassisted for blocks even though the pain is massive and my limp is unattractive. And on the good days, I take to doing light cleaning in the house where my lower back flares and tries to fight me to the point of my giving up. I won’t give in. I love telling my body what to do with my mind.
After seeing my surgeon and the physician’s assistant, they both came to the conclusion that my ongoing pain has been due to the aggression of PT. They gave me an aircast brace for stability purposes and to hopefully decrease the pain. Then they told me if in 4 weeks there’s still pain we’ll take some x-rays. And I’m just wondering how long man? How long? I know I heard the doctors say it can take up to a year in order for your body to feel back to normal. But I was working hard day in and day out in hopes I wouldn’t be in that statistic.
I’ve been sucking it up. I’ve adjusted overnight. So, can I get a little something back that isn’t comfort food or Netflix or reading or writing or short evening walks to try and improve my gait? Where is my additional luck? Has it gone in hiding? And, yes, this is my bitching because on bad days this is how I feel: I’ve been devoted to myself since day one of this accident. I’ve done everything I was supposed to and continue to do now. My darker days I owe to my menstrual cycle and I hover over negatives as if it’s about to go out of style.
Wish me well.