Recovery Is Kind Of Hard

The perfect image of recovery = jug of water, TV remote, Xbox remote, fuzzy blanket and coffee.  Not seen in photo is my lack of pants,  top knot hair, and a button up shirt. 

When I thought about the steps in this process that brought me anxiety, I was mostly worried about being under anesthesia.   Funny thing is...that was LITERALLY the first step.  So much has happened since that (very skilled) anesthesiologist tricked me into talking about Cheevers pecan balls. 

Recovery is hard. 

Pain management: 

As long as I was on the percocet,  I couldn't focus on anything.  I slept through most television,  couldnt read, and couldn't puzzle.   This left a lot of sleeping.   I didn't want to NOT take the pain meds because,  believe it or not,  I was in a lot of pain. 

I am now just taking ibuprofen to manage my pain,  but there is still a lot of napping.   I can read now,  which is nice,  and the puzzle is coming along.

Monday was my first day out of the house.

I wore pants and combed my hair.  It was magical.

I also got one of my drains out!!  Woohoo!!  One more to go and hope to have it out tomorrow. 

Tim took me to eat at our neighborhood. Mexican joint.   Chips and queso never tasted so good. 

I also went to target on Monday to buy myself a new bra...lets just say the recovery bra given to me by the doctor isn't that sexy or feminine. 

I came home and was completely exhaust.  I mean wiped out - I took a 5 hour nap and woke up in time to eat some dinner.  

Yesterday,  with only one drain and the gumption of Kate Winslet in the Holiday,  I showered myself.   How freeing!!  I somehow managed to knock all the shampoo off the shelf and break my razor,  but I did it.   I still desperately need help to get dressed and reach things, but I can proudly say that if I fall,  I think I can get up.

Recovery is hard, but I'm getting there.   Slowly but surely I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I can load the washing machine and make my own coffee,  so I'd say I'm at 60%.