It’s been five days since my surgery. Yes, I’ve curtailed my activities as directed; but I’ve still managed to dress, make the bed, pick up the house (It’s not that heavy!), and generally move about in relative comfort. Without pain meds too.
I credit all those years I’ve gone to the gym, worked with a trainer, and mall walked regularly with my feeling as good as I do and being as flexible as I am. That is, until today.
I hit the proverbial wall. Woke up this morning stiff and sore, mostly because I’m consigned to sleeping in only one position due to the location of my surgery and the ever-present drain. My back is rebelling. My incision is offering sympathy pains, and the arm where the surgery was done is becoming tingly and numb.
I was warned about these latter symptoms, but at the time I was far more focused on the surgery and not the aftermath. I should have realized it’s the aftermath that gets tedious.
So I took a pain pill and spent most of the day sleeping. Asked Earl to wake me in time to see the sunset, which he did. I’m hoping today’s rest will result in tomorrow’s feeling chipper once more.
On a scale of 1 to ten, today was a 5.
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