Post surgery update

Okay, so this is a robber dressed as a mummy in the UK; blame Google images

Good morning fellow bloggers! Let’s get this morning started right. What’s better to go with your coffee than juicy gossip and heart wrenching confessions? Okay, maybe doughnuts. But, lets focus people-focus!

So, without further ado-inquiring minds want to know. How am I doing? Well let’s see… If you count curled up in a ball in the corner, sucking your thumb and crying for your mommy, as doing well, then I’m fantastic!

Actually, the first few days werent so bad. Besides being in a drug induced coma, my mom was in town and there is just nothing like having your mom around.

She took such good care of us and knew just what to do. She was always two steps ahead of everything. She cleaned and prepared food so meticulously, that it took her over an hour to make a BLT. She says that’s just how you make something with TLC.

I don’t know about you-but bacon with love definitely tastes better.

She also made sure all the laundry was clean. She folded each crease so perfectly without a wrinkle in sight. She says it’s a trick she learned long ago because she hates to iron, but I’m convinced she must have owned a Cleaners in a past life.

The day before she left, I quietly began to panic. I tried not to sulk around and just be in the present moment. But since my brain works on a constant ADD overload, I was only successful about 25% of our remaining hours together. The rest of the time, I wanted to hold onto her leg and beg her not to go.

And once she did actually leave, I slowly and steadily began  to feel more and more despondent. Today, I looked at the chairs and where she had positioned them in the shade when we sat outside and I began to cry. I know that’s a little over the top but need I remind you of my alter egos Amy and Tamar? I didn’t think so. It’s still a little early in the morning to unleash them, don’t ya think?

Running out of pain medicine over the weekend didn’t help either. When I called for a refill, I found out to my horror that they have a policy stating that they can’t refill on the weekends. So much to my dismay, I would have to suffer all weekend. In fact they didn’t call it in until 5 o’clock today. I felt like a crazy junkie checking my phone every hour to see if I had missed a call.

I haven’t had a shower or shaved in I don’t know how long and once my meds kick in I can’t wait to hop on in. I am really looking forward to it- minus the part where I have to wrap a trash bag around my arm and  have the husband shower me off. To say this experience has humbled me is an understatement.

My friend Jenny called earlier to invite me on a walk later in the week. I began to give her an earful, rambling off how I still wasn’t sure what lesson I was supposed to be learning. I have a few ideas but I guess I’m waiting for something more-maybe like a burning bush. Of course here in the good ‘ol Mid-west, it would be more like a burning corn stalk.

And actually- add a little butter and sprinkle a little salt and corn doesnt sound that bad right now.

I can hear most of my friend’s choking on their coffee cake, then screaming for me to clean the wax out of my ears, quit gnawing on that corn on the cob and recognize the hard truth- the truth that I need to SLOW DOWN. I need to not do so much-to not be so extreme by trying to become the next Kara Groucher or Lance Armstrong. I mean the reality is- I am bigger than Kara was at 9 months pregnant and having a sex change isn’t really in the cards for me either.

And while I do believe that this truth is part of it, I don’t believe it’s all of it.

On a positive note- the husband had today off and was super helpful. I even woke up to the smell of delicious expresso bean coffee percolating downstairs. I couldn’t believe how this one act of kindness helped to relieve some of the anxiety and pressure I was feeling. And a warm cup of joe first thing in the morning makes everything better.

He goes back to work tomorrow and my sister, aka “freeing Sisyphus” offered to pay for me to hire childcare and for someone to clean my house- a nanny of sorts. I’ve thrown around some different ideas but decided to take the tot to a drop in/drop out super fun kid place in town that one of my friends owns and several of my friends work at. I know Chase will have a blast and I can simply be at home and heal. And this way, I won’t have to worry about a nanny watching me lie around in my PJ’s all day with disshelved hair and stinky arm pits.

I am so thankful for my sister and the fact that she is such a Jo/Terwanda that she can afford to jump in and help me in this way. She is truly remarkable and goes above and beyond for me. My sisters and I have survived some major tragedies in life together and the result of that is that our bond is so strong. I find it quite rare and it’s one that could never be broken.

Going into this, before I knew my mom was coming into town, I really thought I would be okay on my own. I had so many wonderful friends bringing meals and offers to care for Chase. That help meant the world but looking back, I can not imagine how I would’ve survived without my mom here. (My other sister took action and set it up for my mom to be able to come)

This surgery couldn’t have come at a worse time as far as help from the hubs or teenager goes. It is my husbands busiest season and most nights he isn’t home until bedtime. The teenager works and has soccer practice everyday, not to mention somewhat of a social life. As much as I would like to believe he would want to hangout with his invalid mother all day, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t in his dreams for the summer.

So as I reflect, I wonder if the other part of the lesson that I needed to learn was that I can’t do everything on my own. I admit that I hate to ask for help and besides the obvious reasons like my pride, I also see it as a sign of weakness. And I don’t want to be weak.

But the reality is, I am so weak.

And I was weak even before this accident or surgery. Everyday, I have to depend on God to get me out of bed and function much less train for marathons and triathlons. I am nothing without Him. But more than that, I think I needed to realize that I am also nothing without my friends and community.

As much as I don’t like to ask for help or depend on others, the reality is that we need other people to make it in this life. Life is hard and we can’t go at it alone. Sometimes when people hurt you or let you down, you build up a wall-it’s a simple defense mechanism. You don’t want to need people because you don’t want to be let down again. It’s ultimately rooted in fear and built from a lack of trust.

A few months back, I shared with my sister, an acronym I learned long ago. It was for the word fear. It was proposed that it stood for False Evidence Appearing Real. I think this can apply here and she has had to remind me of it  several times over the past few months.

I can’t let fear of being let down or being seen as weak get in the way accepting help. I need to be at a place of yes to receive the love from the people that want to share it. It’s time for my walls to crumble.

Maybe my broken wrist is just symbolism for my broken spirit. I need to fall and be broken in order to heal.  And in order to heal, I have to accept help from others. And by accepting help from others, my faith in mankind will be renewed and instead of a wall, trust will be built up.

Hmmmm-maybe I’m not so stubborn afterall. Of course, there’s always the chance that it’s just the pain meds kicking in.
So, now that I’ve taken you through several paragraphs and lengthy explanations, I guess I will answer the initial question. How am I doing? The answer is complex but to keep it simple-not so great. I am thankful for all of the support and love that I feel but completely done with being injured and unable to care for myself. It’s getting old fast and I would appreciate any prayer that you feel led to offer up for me. I want to just embrace this moment, learn, heal and be a little less broken when it’s over.

And not 500 pounds from all this delicious food everyone is bringing over.

So do you struggle with admitting that you need help? Do you see yourself as weak? And lastly, would you share a time that you received help and it changed the way you viewed the world and those around you?

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  1. I totally understand where you’re at, Karin. Granted, I’ve never had a broken wrist, but I went through the same process after each of my post-pregnancy surgeries. It was depressing, frustrating, humbling, and drew me closer to God than I’d ever been. And I was amazed at the people who stepped up to help, too. A couple people from the mom’s group offered to help do laundry, bring meals, weed my garden. You name it, I was covered. 🙂 I’m so glad you have a plan for the little tike this week. I’ll touch base next week when my life is calmer and see what you need. Take care!

  2. I struggle so much with asking for help, but in certain situations it is certainly needed. I’m glad you are so open to the support so many loved ones are giving. You are obviously loved! 🙂

    Sorry there is so much pain. I pray for a quick recovery and peace. I know those are what I would be hoping for too. You’re strong!

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