I haven’t posted in a while and I’ll post a real update later but I figured I’d give the quick and dirty for anyone who’s still listening and interested.
Since surgery I have had many ups and downs. On the whole I’d say more ups but in general I am uncomfortable with myself in a way I have rarely experienced. Since surgery impedes my energy levels and ability to work out, I’ve gained weight (turns out my fitness was from all the hard work and not a naturally un-aging metabolism), it hurts to comb my hair so most days I feel the agitation caused by the lingering bristles of the hairbrush at best or if I was too cowardly to try to comb it, I feel unkempt. I wore the same outfit today as yesterday and i am not sure it really even qualifies as an outfit if 90% of what you have on is stretchy. I feel a bit blah. I have generally been able to keep pace with school but have limited social activities to my family and only those very aggressive friends who are close by and on my way places. My pain, on average is more manageable, but seems to rear it’s ugly head just as I get comfortable. I fatigue easy, the cold gives me headaches, the ringing in my ears is loud. Given that I feel sluggish from not working out instead of eating right to counter act it I was eating nothing but crap for a time but am attempting to remedy that every day. I mean, what’s the point in eating Oreos when everything tastes like metal anyway.
I am finally getting the hang of my Nespresso machine, I even managed to make a few lattes without flooding the kitchen with milk. I am falling back into a routine and my life has felt pretty mundane. That is if you don’t count the deep examination of almost every personal relationship in my life given my encounter with mortality. I’ve had a hard time communicating my feelings and feel somehow lost that my surgery didn’t cause some grand epiphany. Rather it seems it has created a slow moving, thoughtful, introspective turn in me where I weigh people’s words and patiently await my natural responses. I have become overly analytical. I talk less but when I talk I talk really loud so I can hear myself over both the buzzing in my ears and the convolution of my thoughts. Today a friend told me I was their hero for getting through this. I was taken aback, I’m not particularly heroic and I feel my only revolutionary, brave or heroic act right now is to care for myself. In reality she is my hero, one of many. Loyal, caring, compassionate – that’s heroic. And anyone who isn’t doesn’t have a clear place in this life with me.
I’m practicing patience and each day I get closer to finding my new normal, though the ground beneath me still seems shaky (both literally and emotionally). Thursday I go see Dr. Aberle, the ENT with enough foresight to push for an MRI, I’ll go over scans with her and get a hearing test so I’ll know the true damage that this Herbert fella has done. Almost 6 weeks and I’m still here, still muddling through the strange waters of recovery. And though I may not think so tomorrow, right now I’m going to pat myself on the back and think, so far so good.
Peace and love-