I'm still not broken

May 20, 2017

It's been 5 months since my surgery. Well to be exact it was 5 months and 10 days since my first surgery that I went in for my second. It was decided just as quickly as the first with the only reason being "it's what we need to do." May 11th marked a turning point. I had made an appointment for my surgeon to look at something I thought to be unusual. It looked to me like the head of another suture. This has been my battle...for these 5 months I have had a suture push its way out of my wound skin every 4-6 weeks. It's really no wonder that my skin didn't want foreign objects in my body. Just when I would get strong enough to move around a lot it would happen again.

And again.

And again.

Until finally there was enough healthy skin to work with in my ankle. So that meant going back in.

1st surgery Dec. 5, 2016

2nd surgery May 15, 2017

Yes, it HAS been that long. YES this has been a long recovery. YEEEESSSS it's been difficult and yes I have stayed positive through it all.

 

The crazy thing about all this is the words I hear from others like "we really take for granted our movement until we can't anymore."

Actually, NO. Not since my youth have I taken my movement for granted. Each walk I go on with my dog, each time I dance or climb or feel so intensely my body on my yoga mat, I thank GOD. I always have...even when things are rough I am grateful to feel the difference.

 

Before surgery this time I was told "it must be hard having these expectations for your body and it not happen."

I looked at my RN who had to try to put my IV in twice since I was dehydrated from not drinking or eating since the evening before and said "No, that's not true. I've only ever wanted my body to do what it can. I've never had an expectation for it this whole time. What's been really hard is the expectations every one throws my way on a daily basis. Since I work in the yoga/healing/wellness world so many people expect me to NOT be broken or have hardship in any way."

"That must be really hard."

Yeah, that's the most difficult part about this whole thing. I've come up with endless ways of responding:

- How's the foot? - It's right here ;)

- How much longer? - Until it's over....

- Oh gawd, that must be awful, you probably feel terrible! - Actually, I feel great today. Not all of me is broken, but thanks.

One I have yet to use - "thanks for you un-welcomed perception of how I am. Do you feel better now?"

 

I'm sure there are more, but I really don't care enough to write them. To be a healer and have people look at you like you are broken...well I guess that's just what I had to feel. Anywhere I have taught, and sessions I have ever given, I place myself in the shoes of the other. Empathy. Not Sympathy. These things we go through do NOT define who we are or what we are capable of doing and giving to this universe. I have NEVER been broken, nor has anyone else I have encountered in life. I feel that this thought defines who I am as a healer in this world. NO ONE is broken. We are all seeking our own internal completeness. We are on an endless journey. Even this is my blessing.

 

So far I have learned to say no. I know what it feels like to stop. I can sense when I am getting in over my head and when to back away or ask for space. I can still give. I can still be in this world and shine my light. That has never changed.

 

But now, post second surgery I am faced with yet another battle. My sutures have all been removed, a bunch of scar tissue with it and my skin is CLOSED!!! They were able to stitch me up without problems. You can feel it's coming right?

 

Well, in the tissue they found an infection. So now, I have a PICC line in my right arm (I am not writing it out for you because I feel like y'all have the power of google now and I don't feel like taking that extra step). 3 times a day I need to go through a routine of injecting myself with my dose of antibiotics. Just like the surgery, I felt that it was necessary. The only way out is through.

 

I have another team working with me now - Infectious Disease. So....for 42 days, which is 6 weeks, now 40 days I must do this 3x a day wherever I am. A nurse comes to my house and cleans it each week, goes over things. Well, honestly...they go over stuff & then I ask a load of questions they can't answer....self awareness can be a bitch sometimes. I get that "I have never been asked that question" look, which is responded with:

- talking over me enough in the hopes that I stop talking

- standing in silence with a fixed face of sympathy tapping fingers nervously

- telling me "probably"

- or just looking at me like I'm crazy

Feels good! No, not really.

 

So today....I've cried a bunch. I do that. My body is tired and so is my mind. I ask my spirit to do most of the work. I ask my body to not fight the catheter because it needs to be our roommate for a little while and I lean hard into the people that support me.

 

So that's now. I'm still not broken.

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