I just want to go on a real walk...

I recognize that I have a tendency to write when I am struggling, and not so much when things are relatively easy. I preface this entry in this way because I am inpatient and frustrated today, but I want it to be clear that this has not been my day-to-day experience. But with that said...

I am SO ready to be back to "normal." I was thinking that this feels as though it has been the longest three weeks of my life- then remembered that it has actually been 5 weeks of being laid up. If things had gone as planned the end of my recovery would be near. As it is, I'm halfway. And, today, I'm not in the "glass half full" frame of mind.

I am tired of taking pain medication, which either makes my head fuzzy or upsets my stomach. I am not in terrible pain, but in order to be up and moving, some level of pain management is necessary. I am tired of being tired. I want to have the endurance I did before, able to walk for miles, adventure, without feeling the exhaustion that follows me right now. I want to go to the dog park. I want to grocery shop. I want to vacuum. I want to wear something other than sweatpants. I want to sleep through the night. I want to be able to help Brian. I'm almost to the point of saying I want to go to work. Almost.

I know I'm whining. And I have so much more for which to be grateful. I finished p/t last week, and my therapist said I can use just one crutch or a cane. So, Kinnie, my mom and I went to buy a cane. I let Kinnie choose one, and I should have known I would end up with hot pink. But I have learned that the transition to a lesser walking aid is slow. I use one crutch and the cane around the house. But my leg is weak. And going out without both crutches is too risky. Four days ago, I attempted a full step on my leg without any assistance, and it almost gave out. Today, I am able to take short steps on it. So progress is happening. It's just slow.

Kinnie and I have invented many games which only require my sitting and dancing with the top half of my body. She cuddles me, and asks for me. When I'm resting in bed upstairs, I'll hear her stomp up the stairs and say "I'm goin' to see Mommy." We sing songs. She has many favorites, though I think Mr. Roger's neighborhood is the current most favorite. She does not listen to me as well as she used to. This evening, while eating dinner, she put her hand in her spinach and starting playing. When I asked her to stop, she refused. I think she knows I can't quite chase her down. She's not listening to anybody all that well now. She is, after all, two years old. We have, occasionally, been taking naps together in my bed. That might be the best part of this whole thing. I don't really sleep. I just lie there and watch her.

I have been running some errands and even made it to a dinner party last weekend. We are going out of town this coming weekend for a family reunion. I will be glad for the break from day-to-day monotony at home right now. But also disappointed that I'll still be limited. I want to go for a hike, so bad.

I remind myself that all this is temporary. And, that really, I am blessed. Because there is an end to this challenge in sight. Sometimes it just feels so far away. I am connected to other hip replacement patients through a forum, and there are a few who have suffered so many more complications than me. This, too, shall pass. Patience, patience, patience...

More lessons

Bri and Kinnie just left for the day. Brian has to work, and Kinnie is going to daycare. She could stay home with my mom and me, but we think it's probably good for her to maintain some kind of routine. Brian came up to our room to wish me a good day, and I heard Kin heading up the stairs, too. I said, "Kinnie, come give Mommy a kiss," to which she responded "I don wanna give Mommy kiss." Bri then said, "Can you say 'I love you Mommy'?" Kinnie's reply? "I don wanna say I wuv you Mommy." Think I have a two-year-old???

Had I only required one surgery, today would mark the halfway mark in my recovery. Instead, I'm one week in. I try not to focus on that, but there are definitely moments in which I feel the frustration. I miss "normal life." Yesterday, my brother asked what I want to do the most. And the answer consists of the little things. I hate not being able to go out for walks. I miss giving Kinnie her bath. I would like to clean my house (okay, maybe "like" is a little strong on that one). I want to be able to help Brian with all the tasks that he has taken over. He is working so hard, and I know he is tired. I can't wait to go to the zoo, and experience the new things that Kinnie is doing everyday. Since my first surgery, 3 weeks ago, she has been to the pool, her first Rockies game, the aquarium. I am so glad she is doing these things and is not held back by my recovery- I just want to be a part of it.

It's funny how life's experiences often bring lessons in gratitude. You can bet that when I am healed, and am able to participate, it will mean that much more to me.