They are healing "really well" according to my physical therapist. I think they are starting to grow on me. And yes, they make me look kinda tough in the gym locker room.
XO,
Em
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
Thursday, February 12, 2015
Recovering - 8 Weeks
Today marks 8 weeks since the day of my surgery. I'll agree with others that it can only be compared to a roller coaster.
Recovering from this has been the hardest thing I've ever done.
A friend asked, "If you could do it over, would you still have the surgery?" That question has been on my mind often as I sit alone in my house, watching endless hours of Netflix, popping my hard core meds every couple hours that make me feel like I'm in a constant haze. It's a complicated answer. I think the answer is yes, eventually?
It's hard with a question like that until the full results have been seen or at least enjoyed. My back is significantly straight(er), yes, though it will never be perfect. I still believe that this was the right choice for my future body, health-wise. The hard times are still around, though they are slowly fading.
I've been walking each day, usually about a mile to the nearby Starbucks as a reward. I'm much stronger now over the last 2 weeks and feel more confident in getting around. I can definitely tell that my body is healing.
Over the last several weeks, I've been at home, handicapped in what I can do and still in a good deal of pain. I won't go into all the details of The Great Medication Refill Fiasco of 2015, but basically, it was a total nightmare getting my pain pills to be refilled due to strict narcotic laws. Thanks, delinquents who abuse these. Some people actually need them, you turds. Once I finally got my correct dosage/medication at home, the pain has been manageable. The pills occasionally make me nauseous and dizzy, but I'm working to taper off them as soon as possible. (I've already gone from 12 pills/day to 5/day!)
There has also been crazy construction going on with our plumbing for the last several weeks that involved days of unreasonably loud drilling, frantic Wookie dog barking and frequent WATER SHUTOFFS that made my walks to the nearby Starbucks even more necessary. What wondrous timing. Heavy sighhhhh.
I had aspirations of doing lots of things over the last several weeks. I've been so restless, but so tired. I thought I would maybe write a bit on my screenplay, but that just didn't happen. I haven't been able to focus to read a book, let alone write anything worth reading. Some of my early emails/texts after surgery were barely coherent and required more editing and the reliance on autocorrect than should be necessary for a simple text. Needless to say, I've stuck with Netflix for the majority of my recovery.
Physically, I've obviously been limited. Did you know that EVERYTHING requires the two things I cannot do: bending or twisting? Seriously everything - getting dressed, light chores, feeding my dog, picking up the many things that are now somehow always on the floor (the remote, the pill bottles I knocked over, the reacher arm I dropped, my phone), etc. I may soon try writing or painting with my feet because I'm pretty amazing at grabbing things with them. Showers still hurt, especially on days when the massive mop must be washed, because holding my arms up is tough work.
Occasionally I'll get a random back spasm or a tiny, pointy POKE in my back, like a needle out of nowhere that is so sharp it startles me. I read that these could/would happen, but it's a different feeling when it's happening in your own body. Maybe I wasn't as prepared as I thought for some of this.
This type of surgery/recovery is different for everyone. For me, it's been harder emotionally and mentally than anything else. Thank you to everyone who has called, emailed, texted, sent messages, brought me food and gifts or come by just to say hi. It has meant so, so much to me. I cannot thank you enough.
My sweet Travis has been here next to me, my comfort, reaching over things to hold my hand while I sit in my great barrier aka the recliner. Listening and reassuring, even when I'm crying and convinced that I've twisted the rods in my back out of place or that, "I've somehow messed it up." He's been my constant source of reason and strength and loving encouragement that I absolutely needed to get through the bad parts of this.
Guys, I think I am going to be just fine.
Next goal: healing enough to take a short vacation this summer to the sea, because I need one.
xo
e
Recovering from this has been the hardest thing I've ever done.
A friend asked, "If you could do it over, would you still have the surgery?" That question has been on my mind often as I sit alone in my house, watching endless hours of Netflix, popping my hard core meds every couple hours that make me feel like I'm in a constant haze. It's a complicated answer. I think the answer is yes, eventually?
It's hard with a question like that until the full results have been seen or at least enjoyed. My back is significantly straight(er), yes, though it will never be perfect. I still believe that this was the right choice for my future body, health-wise. The hard times are still around, though they are slowly fading.
I've been walking each day, usually about a mile to the nearby Starbucks as a reward. I'm much stronger now over the last 2 weeks and feel more confident in getting around. I can definitely tell that my body is healing.
Over the last several weeks, I've been at home, handicapped in what I can do and still in a good deal of pain. I won't go into all the details of The Great Medication Refill Fiasco of 2015, but basically, it was a total nightmare getting my pain pills to be refilled due to strict narcotic laws. Thanks, delinquents who abuse these. Some people actually need them, you turds. Once I finally got my correct dosage/medication at home, the pain has been manageable. The pills occasionally make me nauseous and dizzy, but I'm working to taper off them as soon as possible. (I've already gone from 12 pills/day to 5/day!)
There has also been crazy construction going on with our plumbing for the last several weeks that involved days of unreasonably loud drilling, frantic Wookie dog barking and frequent WATER SHUTOFFS that made my walks to the nearby Starbucks even more necessary. What wondrous timing. Heavy sighhhhh.
I had aspirations of doing lots of things over the last several weeks. I've been so restless, but so tired. I thought I would maybe write a bit on my screenplay, but that just didn't happen. I haven't been able to focus to read a book, let alone write anything worth reading. Some of my early emails/texts after surgery were barely coherent and required more editing and the reliance on autocorrect than should be necessary for a simple text. Needless to say, I've stuck with Netflix for the majority of my recovery.
Physically, I've obviously been limited. Did you know that EVERYTHING requires the two things I cannot do: bending or twisting? Seriously everything - getting dressed, light chores, feeding my dog, picking up the many things that are now somehow always on the floor (the remote, the pill bottles I knocked over, the reacher arm I dropped, my phone), etc. I may soon try writing or painting with my feet because I'm pretty amazing at grabbing things with them. Showers still hurt, especially on days when the massive mop must be washed, because holding my arms up is tough work.
Occasionally I'll get a random back spasm or a tiny, pointy POKE in my back, like a needle out of nowhere that is so sharp it startles me. I read that these could/would happen, but it's a different feeling when it's happening in your own body. Maybe I wasn't as prepared as I thought for some of this.
This type of surgery/recovery is different for everyone. For me, it's been harder emotionally and mentally than anything else. Thank you to everyone who has called, emailed, texted, sent messages, brought me food and gifts or come by just to say hi. It has meant so, so much to me. I cannot thank you enough.
My sweet Travis has been here next to me, my comfort, reaching over things to hold my hand while I sit in my great barrier aka the recliner. Listening and reassuring, even when I'm crying and convinced that I've twisted the rods in my back out of place or that, "I've somehow messed it up." He's been my constant source of reason and strength and loving encouragement that I absolutely needed to get through the bad parts of this.
Guys, I think I am going to be just fine.
Next goal: healing enough to take a short vacation this summer to the sea, because I need one.
xo
e
Friday, January 2, 2015
I did it!!!!!
I have a straight spine!!!
I never thought I'd write that. Pretty crazy and cool...pretty crool ...if you ask me.
I had every intention of fully documenting the entire surgery experience, but to be honest, the closer the surgery was, the less and less I wanted to think about it (and I think that strategy worked!). And since I've been home, I haven't felt like writing about it.
I was honestly not nervous at all the day of the surgery, even on the drive there. I was more in get-it-done mode than anything. Yes, I might have excused myself from dinner the night before to go breifly cry in the bathroom stall at Threadgills, but that was my only "moment" prior to surgery that caused me pause.
The morning of surgery, we got there at 5:45am, waited in the waiting room with all the other folks who chose to go under the knife that day. I tried to stretch my hamstrings on the floor and cracked jokes, which is how I handle stress.
After I said goodbye to my parents and Travis, the next thing I remember is asking the nurse to please give me more pain meds. I was in recovery and wasn't as out of it as I had hoped. I was in a lot of pain.
The next few days were hard but I was moved into my own private room and had a rotation of nurses every so often. There were many that were great, and a few that left much to be desired. I never felt like my pain was fully managed well while I was in the hospital. The concoction of drugs they had me taking wasn't doing it, and usually wore off before I could take anything else. I also had zero appetite, but HAD to eat because I was getting nauseous since I wasn't eating. It felt like forcing food down my throat...kinda like when you compress garbage down in a bin to forcibly make room to add to the already full bin. That's what eating felt like.
I'm going to just remember that time in my life as bad-ass training/points. I am stronger now because of it.
I could say more about my hospital stay but honestly I was glad to get out of there. Once PT and my doctor's nurse cleared me, I said Bye Felicia to everyone and Mom drove me home.
I was so very lucky to have the support I did when I was there. My Dad flew in from Baltimore,Travis was there with me each day between his hectic work schedule, and my Mom was my lifeline, by my side the entire time, and basically my personal nurse.
I've been home for almost 2 weeks now, and I'm feeling so much better. I said this in a previous post, but pain really humbles you. I feel like I've made so much progress, but the moment I try to decrease my pain meds or space them out a little further, and that intense pain sets in, I'm instantly reminded about how major this surgery was...
It's no joke, y'all!
I'll try to update this a little more often, and when I'm feeling up to writing.
I can't believe I'm part titanium now.
Xoxo
EP
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