This is not a post about solutions. It's a post about patience and compassion towards one self. And a bit about surgery.
Surgery^Squared happened exactly a month ago and I think that I am where I expected to be, that is if I slow down and think rationally. This is my dominant arm after all. And last time it was six to ten weeks before I felt the struggles in recovery subside.
I am terrified when I try transferring onto my toilet that my arm will give out and I will fall; not completely fall, more like a half fall somewhere between the toilet and the wheelchair and the ground. And I will either be lucky enough that I can manage to slump over my tub and onto the toilet (which happened the day my husband returned to work) or I will gracelessly find the least-worst way to hit the ground. So I can call for help. Before during and after which I no doubt pee myself.
Adjusting to my new mattress and a weaker arm. And having to ask my spouse got help to change positions. Even if it means waking him. And trying to accept this as my for-now-reality. And also being terrified of feeling like I have somehow surrendered.
I have to take breaks during a meal because feeding myself hurts and tires out my recovering arm. And possibly need help from finish the meal.
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