|Medieval Barber from Saturday Night Live|
First, there is discomfort from the surgical procedure. Then there's all the tubes, the uncomfortable bed, the really bad food, and lack of privacy and dignity. Most of the nurses are fine and know how to draw blood and hang a new IV bag. Just remember, they have a number of patients and you are just another alarm going off that needs to be checked. They don't know you and your "things to watch" unless they read through your chart. If you survive for two days, they let you go home. Ahhh, home sweet home.
For me, recovery is tortuous. I can handle the discomfort or pain and I stop the narcotic medications before I go home. If I need something to take the edge off, well, I'm good with ibuprofen. For me what is so difficult about recovery is the idleness and isolation. I can't drive. I can't lift or pick up Little Man. I can't easily go up and down the stairs. I can't sweep, or clean, or cook, or do laundry. I can't sit too long or stand too long or lay down too long. I don't sit still vey well and being idle drives me crazy.
Sure, I've done a LOT on the needlepoint project for church. Yeah, I finished knitting my sister's sweater. Yes, I started a scarf for the church knitting group that resumes in a couple of weeks. Yup, I am working on starting a business, working on the final touches of the ghost writing job I've been doing and I've done some revisions on my novel. But, I'm used to doing all that, and everything else too.
But what I miss most is Little Man. While I was in the hospital and during my recovery he has stopped needing me to lay down with him to fall asleep. He goes to bed on his own. He has stopped asking to sit in my lap and goes off to be by himself. He has stopped giving me random hugs. He stopped needing me. I don't know if I'll ever recover from that.