Mind Trip

Last night I walked in the door after being in Vegas for 4 days, and it took me 5 minutes to realize I was in a mood. I felt like I would snap at any minute, and then did on Chris. I was frustrated and annoyed and just put myself to bed. Today I woke up feeling the exact same. Tried to take the dog for a walk, but still couldn’t shake this feeling. After showering Chris asked me to come sit down and talk to him so he could try and figure out what’s wrong. One minute later I was crying, and wasn’t sure why. After a few minutes of tears and trying to assess what was going on in my head I figured it out – In Vegas I was the closest thing to my old self. I haven’t felt that way in almost 3 years.

I laughed and laughed, I got drunk and had a hallway dance party to Mariah Carey – I felt free. People would be looking at me for reasons of their own – maybe I was laughing too loud, or dancing like a fool, or for the first time in a long while, because I actually looked pretty and was walking with confidence. All of these feelings in me I have not felt in the longest time. I blended in as just another girl who is having an amazing time in Vegas. I went to bed at night and only thought about how I can’t believe I didn’t hit on roulette, and what tables I would play in the morning. That was it.

Today all of that is gone and I am back to reality.

I broke. Chris sat there and just watched as I went from tears rolling down my face to a full sobbing mess. He tried to make me feel better and say that everyone feels that way when they get home, that’s why it’s called a vacation. But I hated that response and started yelling through my tears, “It’s not the same, it’s not the same, it’s not the same!” I threw my face in my hands and sat there balling my eyes out and trying to catch my breath. I never realized how much I missed my old self until I saw a glimpse of her again. She was fun, confident, independent, smart, care free and beautiful. This new person I am still trying to wrap my brain around. I am better in many ways but worse in others. I feel like a solider who has gone to war. They have seen so much death and despair. They had to wake up everyday and fight for their life, and may have scars to prove it. Then they come home and just have to try and forget everything that their memory won’t let them. They are forever changed.

My break down was interrupted by Chris’s phone ringing, which was perfect. I told him to take it and went back to blow drying my hair. I’ve become really good at putting the cork back in the bottle and just continuing on with my day.


Abdominal Muscles

You are never fully conscious of how often you use a muscle until it is in pain. I can tell you now from experience, we use our abdominal muscles for EVERYTHING. The common uses, I was able to brace myself for – like sitting up (although this is still one of the worst things), bending over, etc. The little pains I was not expecting were opening a door, turning on a tap, bumps on the road while in the car – these and more all caught me off guard. Since our core really is essential in our stability, having a good grip on a water bottle even became a challenge. Then I dropped one, cap off. My first reaction was to grab it but to my surprise, instant lighting pain from my core. I had no choice but to watch it all pour out while my mother got up to clean it.

Sleeping is and continues to be the hardest part of my healing. I am only able to sleep on my back. Laying on my side, all of my insides shift and put pressure on my wound. My staples feel like a buttoned shirt that is 3 sizes too small – all just holding on for dear life. So as morbid as this may sound, I now sleep like I am in a coffin. I should not really even call it sleep, it is more like a doze for a few hours if I am lucky. Then I wake up in pain because my back and neck want a break. A few nights ago I awoke with a tickle in my throat (Did I mention how much I now hate to cough?) – I had to first roll over and slowly pull myself up, and then cough. The word “cough” also does not accurately describe the action I am performing. In order to suffer the least amount of agony, my coughing is high-pitched and shallow – a perfect Zoolander impression.

A piece of advice to anyone who may help someone with abdominal pains in the future – pulling them up is worse than them sitting up on their own. The act of force causes my muscles to tense up more then if I slowly ease into a position. Someone should teach the physiotherapists this at the hospital. On the day after my operation they forced me to sit up by yanking my arms. It hurt a little.