I’ve put off writing today thinking that really I only wanted to write anything when things were good and upbeat. I’m not good at sharing when things are not, and prefer to just hide away. However, that isn’t really realistic and, come next year at the other end (hopefully) of this, then I need to see how things really were.
I did a bit of housework yesterday. Not much – changed a couple of beds, cleaned a shower room and swept a floor or two. However, I was so stiff in my back and hips overnight I didn’t sleep well and am sore today. I have a pain from my left hip down my leg and into my foot – and it’s my right hip that is being done first. I’m thinking – how am I going to do the exercises and walk and strengthen my right side after my first hip replacement when my left side isn’t any better?
It also feels as though there is more to think about rather than less. I know parents mean well when they want to drop everything and come and stay to look after me, but actually it feels like extra responsibility for me. I have to organise rooms, and house and food beforehand. I don’t like the intrusion in my house and feel responsible for my guests. My mother is worse than I am and I expect an accident when I can’t do anything! It seems just now that it is adding to my jumbled thoughts and workload. I still have other real work to do – even when I’m recovering – that doesn’t stop. I’m not great at entertaining people – I am happier alone – and when I am ill I have not really evolved from a small furry mammal – I want to curl up alone in peace to heal rather than be fussed, disturbed and talked at. I don’t like attention and I don’t like fuss.
I also feel in much more pain. I can’t decide whether getting this diagnosis and knowing something is to be done has allowed me to feel the pain – to be impatient to be better, and to accept that it hurts rather than putting up with it. Or whether, because it has deteriorated so much more quickly over the last year, that it is just in keeping time wise with what has been happening anyway.
And it makes me tired – the pain. It hurts and it feels exhausting and I want to sleep and have it go away. I just want to sit and cry.
It’s not a good day. It makes me feel bad to even think it, never mind say it. I feel guilty for being so pathetic over something that is not a big thing and will get better. But I’m scared – of the operations, the pain, the anaesthetic, the trying to be better afterwards and not being able to do it alone in my own space and time. I feel guilty when others want to help and I don’t know how to let them, and it feels harder.
Tomorrow might have a different and better path.