When last we saw Our Humble Narrator, she had finished her last ray gun therapy session, collected her diploma, rang the bell with a will (eliciting applause, catcalls, and shouts of “congratulations” from those foregathered), and was driven home by her partner, by way of Bucksport, Searsport, Belfast, and China, arriving in Good Time at Gifford’s, where milkshakes were taken on, and so to home, where said narrator finished drinking her milkshake and had a nap.
Begin TMI
The Official Word is that I will now “rest;” never an easy state for me, this time made a little more difficult by the burns, which are still coming into their fullness, and, yeah, they hurt. I am, according to Dr. Ray Gun, not to “baby” the burns, to continue with the range-of-motion exercises, and also continue to apply the recommended creams. I may take analgesics as I feel the need for them.
I am lower on energy than at any point since this particular adventure began, my memory is not reliable, and I have acquired a deplorable tendency to weep, which is, I suppose, better than throwing knives, or breaking dishes, but much less spiritually fulfilling. I expect that the the reality of what’s happened is finally catching up with me, now that I may “rest,” and have no need to focus on holding it together for the trip to the Cancer Center, the ray gun treatment, and the drive home.
I have an appointment at the Cancer Center next Friday, with the Survivalism Doctor, which, despite my persistent mental picture, is not about taking off our shirts, strapping on our hunting knives, and descending, sans bug repellent, into the marshland surrounding the hospital to bring down and skin a deer. I will be speaking with this doctor about my concerns regarding the drugs they propose to put me on for the rest of my life, so that will be fun.
End TMI
So, anyway, Patience and Waiting Are, as I try to find the balance between “resting” and being horrified that I’ve gotten nothing, not one thing, done — which is not a problem today, as I’ve written this blog post.
Everybody stay healthy. Everybody stay safe.
Big hugs! All those feelings are normal. You will prevail!
“Normal” or not, those feelings are. The difficulty lands in accepting those feelings and your entitlement to them.
Resting is another problem, where, whether you feel like it or not, you must. Acceptance to these new conditions of existence is not something that comes easily to most people.
Some of us have more difficulty than others.
Personally, I had to be drugged into compliance, but my circumstances were somewhat different than yours.
Holler if I can help in any way. I am up here, indefinitely.
Rest and cutting ourselves some slack is often a hard thing to do. Even if we’d logically recommend it for others. It’s one of the most human of reactions. Hoping you feel some holistic relief soon.
Your body has been through a lot and takes energy to heal. Major surgery followed by that guns, not to mention the mental and emotional healing. I don’t know if this is something available to you, but I found that joining a cancer patient support group made a huge difference to my healing. Even if it had been on Zoom, it would still have been helpful. Sending restful thoughts.
Sharing some of your feelings, having completed my third week week of healing from surgery and a wound that persistently bleeds. Because I lack patience I am getting rather snarly, but I live alone so I just end up in tears mostly instead of actually alienating anyone. I am getting some energy back though, and my brain seems to be working a little better. And overall, my surgery was quite minor compared to what you have been experiencing. Hang in there, kiddo.
I go along with the persons who said rest and cut yourself some slack. in any order. Emotions will come and go.
Sending healing thoughts to you. Try to relax and rest that you can let the cats do their job! Plan something fun and enjoyable each day even if it’s just something favorite you like to eat. Perhaps engage in doing some kind of puzzle with paper and pencil Maybe. You are my thoughts and prayers.
Continuing to wish you the best and reminding you that there will be recovery! It might be slow, it might be too gradual to notice, but it *will* happen. I always remind myself of Dori from the animated Finding Nemo: Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep . . . maybe swimming isn’t your thing, but just keep petting those kitties!
“…horrified that I’ve gotten nothing, not one thing, done…”
Awww, com’on, healing, gathering strength, working on attitude – those are all *things* to be done. Meditating & yoga are things too. Us supporters will never begrudge indulgence in these things. Besides, it’s time for us to focus on Baen & holler “get’er done” referring of course to Trader’s. [I do love facetious humor!]
Best Wishes, Bob
I hope all goes well. Maybe watching the birds will help. While we were stuck in Alabama it was entertaining to watch two humming birds fight over three feeders.
This is GOOD news, that you’re done with the raygun assaults. May your skin heal quickly and well. Thank you for sharing your journey, and for letting your fans send support.
You can always cry as you throw knives. Or axes which I am told is a real thing nowadays. We are proud of you!