A Release Of Pain: 1 Month Update

I’m driving people crazy and I really don’t mean to. I know Dreamboat is so tired of hearing me complain. I have friends who are tired of hearing me complain. Even I’m tired of hearing me complain. But I look in the mirror and I hate what I am seeing again and all I think is this:

“Yeah, riding the damn recumbent bike will totally get this extra crap off…”

Logical? No. Emotional? Completely. And the temper tantrum I am throwing inside my head every time I drive by a group of people running or get an email update or look on my Instagram and all that… is very, very real.

I keep telling myself that the logical answer is to absolutely do NOTHING that will jeopardize this surgery, and I haven’t done it. I’ve refrained from running, and with the few exceptions I made, I haven’t picked up anything heavier than 5 lbs. (Okay, you tell a 2 year old who has her hands out to you yelling “yamie, yamie yamie” that you are NOT going to pick her up and snuggle.) I’ve been good about taking the elevator at work despite it being obnoxiously slow compared to running up the stairs, and I am being careful when I drive so I don’t have any issues with pot holes, quick braking and the like. I’ve been riding the bike and walking, and I have been doing some leg exercises like squats and lunges.

But really – I want to DIG DEEP and get going. I want to do Insanity, and I want to start running again, and I want to start sweating like I used to when I was burning tons of calories and feeling good. I want to go over the bridges again and I want to know that I am doing everything I can to make the scale start going down again.

The positive side of this is that I’m feeling better. I am not noticing any real head pain at all, aside from when I do something stupid like pick up my niece and carry her around. I’ve been doing my physical therapy (look right, look left, tilt head right, tilt head left, look up and look down…) and I’ve been taking less and less medication to placate the achy feelings. I have been slowly starting to turn my head left without thinking about it first either. Kind of excited about all that!

I have – however –  been suffering from some random dizzy spells that are leaving me feeling out of it. And I have a new cream that is supposed to help the nerves heal some, although it leaves my hair feeling icky and sticky. It also feels like tiger balm – a burning that is kind of like Icy Hot but without the Icy. It’s weird, and I have to use it 2-3 times a day, but it is supposed to help so of course I’ll do it.

I haven’t taken a triptan in 3 weeks and I feel lethargic, tired, forgetful. I’m sort of testy at times and kind of emotional. But overall, just tired and run down. Three people told me that it’s because I have been going through a withdrawal process since I haven’t had to take something that my body has gotten used to as of late. Detox? Maybe, but part of it is also a point brought up from my mom – I’m still healing. The doctor said that it would take another 6 – 8 weeks to fully heal from the surgery, and that was at my two week check up.

So I’m taking it easy. Sometimes begrudgingly, sometimes because I agree it’s what is necessary. But ultimately I am doing what the doctor says I need to in order to heal and get healthy. Riding bikes to nowhere, eating relatively healthy, and sleeping soundly. In fact, I’ve been sleeping on my left side a lot lately! It’s fantastic!

A sign I’m doing better: Brian was tickling me under my left arm, and I snapped my head to the left to yell at him before going back to playing Candy Crush and watching Royal Pains. He did it again and I slapped him on the arm, yelling at him.

“Did you see what you did?” he asked me, pausing the DVR.

“I see what I’m going to do if you keep tickling me,” I snapped at him. He grabbed my arm and smiled at me.

“You turned your head to the left without a problem. You didn’t have any pain. I made you do it twice, and you’re fine,” he said. He held me for a long time as I cried happy tears.

Impatience be damned – this is working.

 

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