Day nine

So this is what it's going to be like. Another 2-3 weeks.

I can't complain. I'm motoring around with my little cane. I'm down to 3-4 doses of Tylenol. My intestinal tract has remembered how to operate. I'm lucid enough to do simple work projects and keep lists of what should be done but isn't. Heck, I should be celebrating.

I'm coping OK. My caboose is still a little sore. It's like the muscles in my back side haven't remembered what they're supposed to be connected to. I've got the "typical" bit of swelling and fluid retention that comes after any surgery. My caregivers caution that not enough exercise aggravates this -- as does too much exercise. (That's perfectly clear.)

Now's where things get a little frustrating. I've made all this progress and should continue to be able to walk farther, faster, etc. But my positional "restrictions" continue 'til about a month after surgery. So I can move around better, but I still can't do anything.

My dear friends are prodding me, offering help, visits, outings. I'm not good at asking for this and feel blessed by their persistence and creativity. 

My husband and daughter are making huge efforts to maintain the household. I know it has to be difficult for them. They want to maintain the status quo, but they haven't the time for it. Z hasn't felt well the last couple days and it's been so difficult to watch her labor through her commitments without being able to offer much help. I'm trying to focus on the things I can do -- organizing meals, handling tasks that can be done at counter level -- rather than the things I can't -- loading/unloading the dishwasher, laundry, feeding the turtle. It's the simple stuff that wears you out.

Current mantra: focus on the positive; it makes everyone feel better.