Bookmarked and downloaded. Period.
As a person with a genetic condition that has caused multiple chronic medical conditions, I am nearly always in a state of recovery from one thing or another, usually injuries. As I also am a chronic pain patient, I have developed a tendency to push through and do things sooner than I should (or perhaps shouldn't do at all) because I am aware that it'll be painful no matter when I do it, and as long as I am careful, I can generally succeed in accomplishing whatever I am trying to do, somehow.
About 5 months ago, I had a major abdominal surgery that had me in the Abdominal Transplant Unit of a major university hospital for six days. Not a transplant, but some serious re-working of various circulatory issues in there. Technically speaking, I am still on restriction to a degree.
I learned during that first few weeks home from the hospital just how much I push myself and how impatient I become. My husband had to go back to work and my mother had flown out to stay with us and help me out for a couple of weeks. I was told by both that I did well in respecting my limits the first few days, but after that, my mother started getting on my case for doing too much, too fast - or trying too. Even my kid texted me from college between classes to check and remind me to rest.
I found myself toting around a mental image of what my surgery actually did and what the potentially fatal results were if I acted the fool and did not follow orders on rest and recovery. I had to be brutal with myself and replay those consequences over and over. It eventually worked - I decided that bending over to load the dishwasher was not as important as my life. (Should have been a no-brainer, but the dishes on the counter were driving me nuts and I didn't feel right in asking my mom, a guest in my home, to do "my" household chores....sigh.)
I eventually figured out how to honor my body's needs and recover. It was too big an event to jeopardize through impatience. I did eventually start lifting things a bit heavier than strictly recommended and doing some twisting and turning, but I cleared it with my medical team and was ruthless with myself in sticking to those limits. As long as they were okay with it, I would move forward. A bonus was the rediscovery of old hobbies and interests I had set aside - I resumed my decades-old Tai chi practice, for example (no lifting over 10 lbs) and began distance walking again after a week or so, even if I insisted it would be at least a daily walk to the mailbox and back if nothing else. I had to walk to prevent blood clots in my legs anyway, and I had been doing virtual (and regular road) race walking for two years, so this was something I could do that made me start to feel like myself again.
I'd suffered through a round of salmonella almost exactly a year to the day before my surgery and the recovery from that was long and difficult too.
What I learned from these two most recent recoveries was pretty startling for me. A "no duh" moment but still a shock.
You can never "catch up" or recover time lost. If you try, you're simply squandering the gifts of new minutes and new days, focusing instead on a past that is done and over. The weather changed and my favorite walking times went past, me unable to walk....but the day I could walk again, I got up and moved forward without regret for having missed my favorite weather. Nope. I focused on the here and now, and the benefits to come from my choices moving forward (literally). The kicker was that if I tried too hard, too soon, I would find it took even longer to get to where I wanted to be. Two steps forward, one and a half steps back. If I listened to my body, my heart, my spirit, my mind - if I respected them and honored their needs, my progress would be much swifter. And so it has been.
I was able to safely (and with doctor's permission) return to work after two months rather than the projected three. I stopped and did internal self-checks (still do) before attempting something new during my recovery or lifting/moving a bit more than I previously had. I gave myself time to see the benefits of the surgery (and WOW, were there benefits!), and it gave me time to process some life experiences that I hadn't given myself permission to unpack before. I thought about my life direction. I made decisions and plans. And I found this enforced downtime was one of the biggest blessings I could never have anticipated. I surrendered to the experience of recovery in the here and now. I stopped trying to rush it along. What a gift to myself that was and continues to be!
I find myself this day feeling antsy about some things I want to do but am not yet comfortable enough in my recovery process to attempt just yet. I can plan for it though. Listening to this reminded me that recovery is a process, one to be respected. For me, it is also a reminder that at least for me, I get distracted often, so things I want to do often don't ever get done. Taking time to plan for them rather than rushing out to DO them and getting sidelines in the process triples the chances that I will actually achieve those things.
Recovering, each and every time I go through the process, reveals new aspects and new gifts. This time I have become more clear on my future goals and plans. More focused on the small steps to achieve them, and actually planned out a rough map of how to do it (with lots of wiggle room built in for the adventure we call "Life") so that I have felt less overwhelmed in general than ever before. What a blessing!
I needed to hear this brief talk of yours today. Fantastic reminder for myself as I am fighting that "DO SOMETHING" urge right now when my body is whispering for more rest. I am grateful you were authentic in recording it during your recovery, and that you did not jeopardize your health and continued recovery by doing so.
Thank you so much for sharing your insights here with us. This helped reinforce my willpower and firmly set my expectations for the day ahead. Thank you again. I see the light within you. 🤲🏻❤️🤲🏻
