Scarred

My mom insisted on her taking this “cute” photo

I got about 2.5 hours of sleep when the pain jolted me out of a deep sleep. My ankle pain is radiating and throbbing on the inside of my left foot. My knee is the size of a softball, even with round the clock icing and elevation. I have shooting pain from my knee up through my thigh.

I don’t think the fact that my cast weighs at least five pounds is doing me any favors. The only activity I have been able to barely do is use my crutches to get to and from the bathroom. Everything else like getting on and off the couch, along with meal prep, I must have help with.

I feel as though I’m a burden because my mom has been sleeping on the couch in our den just in case I need help with ice packs in the middle of the night. So obviously her and I both are not sleeping well.

They say it gets easier day by day and this is day 3 and the pain is only intensifying.

I think about how this is my biggest surgery to date since they had to get the cartilage graft out of my knee and put the harvested body organ into my foot to even have a chance at me being active again one day.

I thought getting my appendix out was bad because I couldn’t eat or drink, but now out of complete boredom, I will snack all day long just because I can.

My impatience is getting the best of me in all aspects in life. Not only does that include my recovery for this surgery, I am being impatient with family who is trying to help me the best that they can. I’m being impatient with the men that I like or at least used to be interested in.

For example, I got a text from Daniel the pharmacy tech, of all people. He hoped my surgery went well and wished me a smooth recovery. I said thanks and that its rough so far, and we left it at that.

The fact that I heard from him at all shocks me considering I thought he didn’t care. I’m not even going to try to figure him out because it would be a waste of time and energy.

Chris and I have been texting periodically which is been nice and my friend Tanner messaged me about my new apartment and I told him I went to San Diego and had surgery on the 21st. Sent him some SD photos and he said I looked happy.

Despite the pain and the course of narcotics flowing through my veins, it’s rather hard to self reflect because I’m so preoccupied by the pain. It’s not a very common procedure so I’m not sure how long til I won’t be in pain every single moment and all that.

This surgery is similar to my last but then again, not at all due to this added knee transplant. I guess I had forgotten how much this mother fuckin’ surgery went the last time and how miserable I was because if I had to give my pain a rating it’s a 12 out of 10 possible points.

I feel scarred for life because I have a pretty long incision above my left knee going up my leg that is being held by steristrips and since I can’t see my ankle through the bulky Jones cast, I don’t know what is holding my foot together.

In some ways, this surgery has been easier than others since I have the right medical equipment and I know how to scoot myself up the stairs after a few days so I can lay in my own bed and eventually take a shower. As of now, the idea of the stairs has me defeated.

I am excited for my best friend, Brent to come visit me around noon today. Hopefully I can sleep peacefully before then so im not groggy on pain meds and lacking sleep.

He had his foot and leg surgery about 13 weeks ago so he knows exactly the pain I am going through. Even if he didn’t get the pain, we would still have fun shooting the shit with each other.

I can feel a manic upswing on the horizon which normally means bad news for me and reckless spending and gambling, but I legitimately cannot act on many of my impulses which may be a blessing in disguise. If I can’t get around my own house with ease, how in the Hell would I be able to scooter around a casino or a mall for that matter?

I think this is my opportunity to really reconnect with God and see what he has in store for my heart in the upcoming future. This is my time and I am refusing to waste it.

I do, however, need to give myself a little bit of a break because I know I can be hard on myself when I’m trying to patiently talk to God and get answers to my prayers.

Right now im sitting here on my phone, punching the keys, nauseous as all else. I just took some of my narcotics so I’m trying not to get sick. Thank goodness for anti nausea medication!

All I keep thinking at this point, everything is an uphill climb (metaphorically at least; let’s face it, I’m not doing any climbing anytime soon). It’s like I just rode the depression roller coaster and that finally ceased. And now the roller coaster carts are chugging up the hill into the Heavens of a manic wonderland.

It’s a bipolar roller coaster I can’t get off of even if I tried. I suppose I might as well look around and enjoy the ride because there is no escaping my mind.

Until next time,

Dani

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