Graphic content warning.
There’s nothing better than being at home.
But I’m learning that it’s much easier to over-do it at home.
What is overdoing it anyway?
The instructions said “lift nothing over 5 lbs.” and “no strenuous activity.” For another 8 bloody weeks post-discharge.
I’m a triathlete. Somehow my definition of “strenuous activity” looks a little different than most people’s…
I definitely over-did it Thursday.
And, like most things, it wasn’t one thing that was the issue – it was all the things combined.
I was so excited; Thursday I got to put on real pants and a bra.
I had an appointment with my chiropractor, followed by one with my surgeon.
The chiropractor was awesome. I still can’t lie on my stomach, so he just did some very gentle decompression on my neck; it’s a traction device designed to take pressure off the vertebrae. Because I’m spending most of my time sitting in awkward positions, this felt great!
I saw the nurse at Dr. Quinlan’s office and she removed half of my 21 staples. She seems happy with my progress but has firmly said ‘Don’t you dare THINK about swimming for another 8 weeks.”
I went home, and that’s where the trouble began.
Somehow I got it in my head that it would be a good idea to do a couple loads of laundry.
Now, this may have been okay except that our laundry machine is on the ground floor and livingroom is on the 2nd floor. Which meant up and down two flights of stairs each time.
That was a dumb move.
It felt okay at the time, but by evening I was glued to the chair and my wound had started bleeding again.
In fact, it scared me enough that I called Health Link.
They said I was okay – but SIT DOWN and watch to make sure it didn’t get any worse.
I’m no good at this resting shit.
Friday, I was determined not to over do it.
It was an absolutely stunning day. 15 degrees. Sunny.
My friend Angie came and collected me and we went to Willows Beach, about 4km from my house.
We sat on a log and watched the dogs run around like crazy and talked about – well – nothing and everything at the same time.
It was amazing, and exactly what I needed.
By the time we got home, I was exhausted.
She kindly heated up some soup and made sure I was okay.
I was fine, just tired.
It’s amazing how tired I am.
Not sleepy; I’m not sleeping much.
But physically exhausted.
My body is using up all its energy to heal me.
Before surgery, I would go down to this particular beach quite often, walk 6km for an hour and then go on about my day that included a couple hours of training and 8-10 hours of work.
I didn’t even think about it.
Now, walking 150m is exhausting.
I just need to sit so my body can heal itself.
And it is, slowly.
Some friends have graciously reached out and given me projects that I can do from my computer.
This is helpful, as I am more likely to sit still when I feel I am DOING something.
I am creating; I am contributing.
Reading and watching TV just isn’t cutting it, and our EI system isn’t really set up to allow me to work part time for my employer.
That’s another rant for another day.
I am grateful to be at home.
And I am grateful for friends who care.
Think I can still exercise my fingers? 😉