Recovery is not linear.
Some days, I really do feel okay. Other days… I just want to sleep. I go to work most days, thankfully from home, and enjoy my work and learn things. Some days I struggle. Every day at some point, I notice how my shoulders ache. It’s weird because you’d think they’d be happy without the extra weight. They’re still learning, I guess.
If I don’t do my physical therapy exercises for a few days? I know. I’m back at it yesterday and today. Back to lighter weights as it seems that the heavier weights might be causing my scars to pop out more. Massaging them to try to get them to be more flat. Trying to balance getting my strength back, losing the weight I’d gained during treatment and after surgery, and not overdoing things so that I can keep moving forward.
It’s frustrating.
We walk the dogs every day. That’s one good constant. I’m even strong enough to walk all approximately 42 lbs of them together on days when my husband has wandered off or is busy. But mostly we all walk together.
I don’t go anywhere except on those walks. And to the bank. I use the drive up teller, which is a video call basically. I put a glove on to touch the screen and the buttons, deposit my check, and remove the glove before touching the steering wheel. If I ever do go anywhere, I will wear a mask.
I survived cancer. I don’t want to try my luck with an illness that can keep people in the hospital or in their own beds for weeks. I mean, I’ve hit my deductible, so it’d be covered, but…
It’s frustrating.
My husband goes to the store. Some places, masks everywhere. Others, maybe 50% compliance or less. It’s sad to know how many people just don’t seem to care about others because they’re uncomfortable. I’m still wondering how many times my surgeons passed out on me during my 6 hours or so in surgery. They must have if masks make you breathe in your own CO2.
Maybe someone stands by the table and catches them as they fall and then the next surgeon jumps in to take over? I know several worked on me. That’s probably why. Yep.
It’s frustrating.
Makes me sad because I honestly don’t know when the next time will be that I feel comfortable just hanging out around people. I mean, if they suddenly discover O negative blood types are immune? Maybe… but I still couldn’t because I’d hate to be a carrier and give it to someone. I love people. I hate their lack of self-awareness and self-control. Their denial of science.
It’s frustrating.
But there’s hope. I’ve talked to some friends more than I have in years. It’s been nice to catch up some. To get back into the lives of some people who I really, really care for and love.
Anyway. It’s frustrating. But I’ll stay the course. I’ll just have to shrug when others don’t understand my reticence to going out and doing fun things that are inside. Maybe we could go camping, though. Outside. Except I am a fan of indoor plumbing.
So, so frustrating.