The big black dog has sniffed me out.

Tomorrow is week 3 since I have had my surgery.   For 2 plus weeks I felt pretty perky and rather chuffed with myself re my recovery.   By week 2 I was doing pretty much everything although daily naps were still needed.  Driving remains a challenge as I have to turn my neck to certain angles that hurt.  I slowly started exercising by walking and swimming.   I had had depression following an op before and I was convinced if I could dodge her by moving around and being up and about I would be OK.   I thought I was home scott free but it seems she has found me. 

I can't even begin to talk to my neuro who has the worst bedside manner ever.  When I was in high care I asked him about the numb patches on my skull and whooshing sound in my head as well as when I could go home.  His answer:   When you stop moaning.  MOANING?  WTF?  I am reporting symptoms to my doc as I have no idea what is normal or not.  When I mentioned the 2cm cut he mentioned was not the 15cm long one with subsequent hair shaved off he said he could have left the hair there and had me die of an infection.  Delightful chap, imagine if I now mention weepiness and depression! 

I am glad to find its so common tough and read this article: http://harvardmagazine.com/2000/07/an-understandable-compli-html      It make me feel better.    I am at the point of being grateful for surviving and my future improved life but I am still in pain and not as strong as I was.  My mouth is not healed, can you actually believe that.  I feel tearful and exhausted and I just want to run away, far!   Thank goodness holidays start in a week so its no more rushing around.    I hope this back dog buggers off soon.  I want this to be over and get on with my life.  I was so determined to keep it at  bay and bounce back but it seems my body needs to get over this shock.   Someone cut my neck & skull open, removed my cranium, messed around in my brain for a few hours and then stapled me back together.   My body is not happy about this.  She feels abused and out of sorts.  She feels a little f*cked up actually.   Sorry body, for trying to rush you along and be all tra lah lah and showy off about my recovery.  Please forgive me.  I will be very nice to you.  Thank you for allowing me to drink wine again and not have my face go numb or slur my words after half a glass.   

PS:  my current over sensitivity making parenting my teen that much harder.  Have a whole long blog post in my head about toddlers vs teens.  Wednesday, might write then,