Day 38: I type slow these days

I've tried to post, but it is has been too frustrating, because my shoulder goes numb and I can't think of words and I type SO SLOW. So I haven't been posting, but I sure have been EATING. Not really, really bad, but enough where I'm like, nah. No point to letting this get too off track. So, I'm blogging despite the lengthy amount of time it takes to actually write. Somehow my weight has been the same since Day 14. I can't see how it could be muscle, because I have lived a nearly veal-like existence for the entire time y'all (except Suzette and Adam) have "known me." Weird.

I am proud to say that today I am down to only 75 mg of my medication. Two weeks ago I was as high as 600. I sleep a lot, and it hurts a lot, too. That's just where that is, and I am okay with things not being completely healed, yet. It just takes some time, and I have time, and although my patience regarding the typing and not being able to organize my thoughts as quickly as I'd like is a bit fleeting at times, I've got a lot of Faith. I'm not suffering, or anything like that, it's just old fashioned, "Ouch. I'm gonna lie down until that stops." Sometimes I'll cry.

Crying is really healing for pain. But the idea that I'm crying makes people really uncomfortable. Pain hurts, the crying eases it. What exactly is the big deal? Why do people have to say stuff that sometimes feels really callous like, "But you're not really hurting," or "but I thought you were fine?" Like I go from needing a walker to get to the doctor straight to running a marathon or doing a jig on a trapeze or something? What the ?

Let me clarify the walker thing. I can walk without it. I cannot walk FAR or long or without a limp, but I can walk without a walker. That is a victory, but it's almost like when I had the walker, people were kinder or a least more sensitive to the fact that I was "on the mend."

Also, I don't know how to respond to people asking me if I'm better. At first, I kept saying, "Yes, I'm better." Because I am BETTER. I'm getting better all the time. The progress isn't linear from day to day across the board, but I AM HEALING. I am all kinds of better. No walker. No more crazy weird, dead, numb arm scares. I can put weight on my left leg now. Less medication. I'm not even hurting as severely or as often anymore. All great things. All BETTER. But apparently saying that I'm doing better means to people that "I'm healed."

I'm not healed. I cannot get on a plane or walk wherever I want when I want. I cannot go to the gym or do any kind of weight training. I cannot pick things up off the ground or bend at the knees or sit up at the computer when I want or eat at the dining room table or make my own coffee every morning. (But SOMETIME I CAN!) I practice walking in the pool. I practice stretches that I cannot do on land in the pool. That's just how it is for now. I'm just healing and sometimes hurting.

But I do feel really misunderstood sometimes. It's almost like because I didn't make a really huge fuss, the severity of my condition is lessened or in some instances completely negated. But it's weird, because I can also see where this injury has been a gift, and how wonderful it is to have the support of my family and such a great group of people like you guys.

I'm going to nap, and between today and tomorrow I'm commenting on every single shredder blog (maybe shorter comments though this took forever) and soak up the healing power of all your great energy.

THANKS GUYS. It's good to be back.