These past two days have been most frustrating. I thought by now I’d be feeling more and more myself, even with the drain still in place. But I’ve felt less and less optimistic, less and less able, less and less satisfied with my post-surgical progress.
So I contacted SW, the oncology nurse navigator, in the belief that she would take time to listen and I could then get on the right path before seeing the surgeon, who is a man of few words in the first place. SW and a physical therapist spent two hours with me, answered my questions, looked at my incision, and sympathized with how bandages and tape make me feel crummy.
More than that, they asked what I’d been doing these past two weeks and concluded I have been working against myself. Playing piano too much, writing too much, using my right arm too much. I honestly don’t know how I can do less; I’m not ironing, not cooking, not making beds alone. To which one of them suggested I do nothing (as much as possible) for three days and see if the numbness, tingly-ness, and achy-ness that I’m complaining about subside.
Nothing for three days! You’ve got to be kidding! Tomorrow for instance, I already have one teleconference, one hair appointment, and two doctors’ visits. And in life before surgery, I would have also scheduled a workout with my trainer, made dinner, and bustled about our house making sure everything was in place before settling down to read in the evening. Piano goes without saying too.
Still, I’ll think about it. I just have to find three days and hope they’ll turn the past two from 5-6 to my usual glass-half-full 8-9.
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