Archives for posts with tag: recovering

It is morning. Well past dawn or sunrise. I’m off work – surgery today. Now and then my anxiety begins to flare up, mostly the result of troubling memories of past surgical experiences. It’s a “nothing” sort of thing. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I pull myself back into this moment. This surgery coming up today is quite minor. It’ll probably be done under a local anesthetic and finished in minutes. Regardless; the outcome will be what it is when that time comes. For now I enjoy my coffee in the garden.

A new day.

So… It’s much later. It’s evening. My anxiety was worse than I expected (or was willing to acknowledge). I’m calling it a night and feeling a bit woozy from the last lingering after effects of the surgical stress, the anesthesia, and the pain medication they gave me for today and tomorrow. I don’t really expect to need it past then, and figure I’ll be on my usual meds in the usual way by Saturday for sure. It went fine. I was surprised that it was done under general anesthesia – seemed the sort of thing that could potentially have been handled with an exacto knife and a moment of moment of excessive frugality, perhaps. lol

… Getting everyday shit done is a tad more complicated by being drugged and one-handed, but it’s temporary…

In practical terms my ability to manage my anxiety skillfully was, at best, superficial and only barely adequate. As a result I managed to aggravate my Traveling Partner (first thing in the morning), who was trying to provide caregiving and support and manage his own worry without adding to my stress. He wasn’t fooled. I did manage to mystify the nurse at the surgical center with my higher-than-200/90 blood pressure when my records show my historical average around 135/70. lol She didn’t see my anxiety at all (and I didn’t explicitly call it out). She said later that I seemed very calm and steady, after I thanked her for helping to calm me before surgery. There’s something to learn from that. One clear takeaway is that “managing” and “masking” are not the same practices and can’t get the same results. I gotta work on that. It matters to choose the right tool for any job.

Still, it’s behind me now. My throat is a bit raw from their method of managing my respiration while I was unconscious. That’s not a complaint, just an observation. I’ll have some water, and a cough lozenge, get a good night’s sleep (I hope), and tomorrow, I’ll begin again.

As in a morning sunrise

It is a quiet morning, beyond my common understanding of quiet. I am still and serene. I am… ok. It’s been a couple of days to take care of my fragile heart, to heal and to rest. My eyes still tear up when I think about Tuesday morning, and I hurt down deep that ancient pain can still touch me at all. That it can reach through progress and every day delight to grab hold of my experience and continue to torment me saddens me a great deal, and so much of that vague simmering undercurrent of anger in ‘who I am’ is about this…that the pain of what-has-been can still touch me.

I see the reflection of my face in the dark mirror of the unused side monitor…I don’t look broken. I don’t look like I’ve lost my mind. I see the hint of a smile, and a subtle knowing look that suggests ‘you can’t fuck with my head so easily’…although I don’t think that’s accurate, as much as how I see that reflection; a hint of a woman I am becoming, more than the woman I have been in the past. There are also big colorful earrings…which is for the moment more relevant to my pleasure in that reflection. They match my shirt. I feel a moment of familiar affection for this complicated being that I am. Becoming more…’aware’…has also resulted in some fun moments of friendly exasperation over being so very human. I’m endlessly amused by my vanity…do earrings really matter? That the purple of these bold cheap purple and green daisies is quite the same purple as the hand-me-down purple thermal delights me in a sweet and simple way. It isn’t that the purple is a match that matters, as much as the delight. The delight is more about where the earrings and shirt came from. Every material thing I cherish has a story, or holds a memory.

Today isn’t trivial. Today isn’t tragic, either. It’s just a day. It is, however, a day that has started well and for now that is more than enough to put a smile on my face. It was a tough week…strangely, and wonderfully, it’s an enormous improvement over other, older, more difficult weeks.  It’s been about resting, recovering, healing…instead of ‘more of the same’ and the pain and anger and the tears.  The mindfulness practices I am learning have helped more than I can describe; imperfect perfection. I need a lot more practice. lol. Progress, though, is enough to show me I am choosing a path that is taking me to some desirable destination. Again, that’s enough. It wasn’t so long ago that I’d have spent days bouncing in and out of horrible states of rage and despair, frustration and tears, unable to get ‘unstuck’ from ancient pain, unable to be aided or consoled, begging for mercy, unheard. Then there’d have been days and days of fatigue and exhaustion, wandering around in a blue funk, teetering on the edge of ‘more of the same’, until it all finally ran its course. This is so much better.

It is Friday, though…and that means therapy. Progress is awesome. Doing the work that supports further progress…not always so awesome. It’s ok, though. I have the support of my partners, and 50 years of life experience to remind me that my demons only have the power I give them, and that the journey is not about the goal, or measuring the distance walked, as much as enjoying the experience over time.

No pictures today, and far fewer than a thousand words.