Well, damn! Have I really been off since Valentine’s Day? Sigh. Guess so.
Well, I guess there have been some extenuating circumstances. We’ve been rushing around a bunch, getting the kids focused and motivated. Not to mention getting myself ready for surgery (which has since taken place, but the prep was a huge pain.) (The amount of laundry and grocery shopping alone was pretty daunting. I wanted to make sure the Esteemed Spouse could find what was necessary without having to look too hard.)
Before I forget, here’s the revised appandage:
So, yeah, I’ve been busy, but not so busy that I haven’t been paying attention.
Now is the hard part: rehab. I am not the most patient person. I don’t really mind pain too much, but I have trouble coping when there is not visible progress, and I frequently expect too much of myself. (If you were to ask my eldest, she’d probably say I expect too much from her, as well.)
I am finding it a big challenge to remain somewhat positive in the face of reduced mobility and increased discomfort. I am so darned crabby, and that frustrates me, too. We have in this culture a model for women bearing their troubles with fortitude and grace, for bearing up uncomplainingly. I apparently have bought into this, because I am feeling so guilty for not being able to spring back into the fray, physically and emotionally.
I just don’t wanna. I want everybody to leave me alone, except for when they are anticipating my needs and magically making everything better. I realize this is unreasonable. That doesn’t change the fact of what’s going on inside, though.
I hope soon to be off the pity stool. I’m sure it won’t be long. Bear with me.