A New Normal

I woke up Tuesday, and got up to the bathroom. I didn't go straight back to the couch. I wandered into the kitchen, and stood looking at the stove for a few minutes, wondering if I could make my own breakfast. Before the operation, I would get up nearly every morning and make some eggs, veggie bacon, and usually coffee for Liz and me. I just wondered if I was ready to start again. I decided I wasn't.

I went back to the couch, and started reading. I was waiting for Liz and Sharon to get up. And waiting for time for my next Percocet. I timed everything I did around when the pain meds were due. I could take longer walks, or even shower or something, in the first hour or two after I took the pill. I avoided any unnecessary motion in the last hour before the next pill. But I was just starting to wonder if I could stretch that, or challenge that approach. Maybe I could shower right before the next pill was due.

I didn't shower on Tuesday. As it turned out, I didn't shower Wednesday, either.

I guess the biggest variation from the dull routine was that I took a nap on our bed on Tuesday. I could get comfortable if I arranged the pillows right, but I couldn't lay on either side. I wasn't a good nap. I wasn't ready to sleep in our bed yet. When I woke from a bit of dozing, which was the best I managed, I went back to the couch. I settled in there for the rest of the day. And the night. And most of the next day, too.

I think Wednesday, I took a walk outside. I walked down to the end of the driveway. I was getting more ambitious as I sat on the couch, reading, but ambition quickly melted in the face of motion. A walk to the end of the hall and back still felt like an accomplishment, though I did manage to spend more time on my feet. I could stand at the window, for example, and watch birds and squirrels. That was something. And eventually, I figured, I would get back to regular showers, and maybe wear something besides scrubs and t-shirts. Someday. But not yet.