Doing absolutely nothing

Good morning. I'm going to use this blog today as a vehicle to complain a little. I've tried very hard not to complain about anything that has happened to me during these past 27 months - because I know how blessed I truly am. My kind of cancer had the most promising outcome due to the treatment choices that I made and could make because of having the luxury of so many top doctors and facilities at my fingertips. My baby was and is healthy because of the options I had with my care and his in utero. I am surrounded by loving and supportive family and friends. I'm one of the lucky ones.

Today, I am in pain and I need to complain. From my laproscopic hysterectomy last week, I have three incisions on my abdomen ranging in size from one centimeter to one inch. My right incision, which is the one-incher, hurts so much that all I can do is take my Percocet, Motrin and Colace (gotta take a stool softener when you take pain meds for a long time), lay in bed with my heating pad and wait to go to sleep.

All the wonderful medical professionals in my life were so encouraging about my getting the hysterectomy. They said that it was in my best interest for a woman my age after what I've been through to completely eliminate my risk of getting cancer in my reproductive organs. They told me that I was through having babies because of my age, lasting chemotherapy effects on my eggs, the Tamoxifen - not to mention the challenges of miscarriages and fertility treatments we have had since we began in 1999 trying to have children. My dear doctors said that the worst surgeries and recoveries were behind me; this one was not a big deal compared with the others. They said to plan for four weeks of recovery DOING ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Well, that sounded like a vacation for me! Surely, they couldn't mean that I could do absolutely nothing for four weeks - no grocery shopping, no gardening, no laundry (if it means lifting heavier than a gallon of milk), no cleaning out and organizing, etc. AND ABSOLUTELY NO LIFTING PATRICK OR RISK GETTING A HERNIA! OK. Got that message LOUD and CLEAR. So maybe it means that I can work on organizing my photo albums - a project I last visited when I was pregnant with Patrick only getting as far as dividing thousands of photos and negatives into boxes broken down by years going all the way back to 1988. So that's 20 solid years of photos - thankfully, everything since 2008, I stopped printing all my photos and have been filing them on our computer. Now I just have to create those digital photo books. Organizing my precious photos has been weighing on me for years and I know have this gift of time to do just that.

Together with my dear mother-in-law, we made arrangements for the care of the kids for four weeks. Of course, Patrick is the one that needs constant help and supervision. I made a schedule for the first week that included all of Georgia's extracurricular activities and listed the things she needed to do. Patrick's schedule was pretty simple: eat, sleep and play. And stay safe. Jane arranged for a family friend who just returned home from college to help out as needed. In my mind, I thought for sure that the kids could come home after my first few days home where I completely followed the doctor's orders (and my husband's). So I slept a lot and stayed in bed reading and watching reality tv. I left the house for an hour on Saturday to see my kids at the annual spring carnival at the Church of the Holy Spirit. Exhausted, I returned home to my beloved heating pad and bed to nap for six hours. I missed a surprise party that night for my close friend's 40th birthday. I was so disappointed with myself that I didn't feel better yet when I was the perfect patient and followed all my hospital discharge instructions.

On Monday, we had a perfect sunny day in the upper 70's - a sharp contrast to the miserable cold, wet spring days we've had for many weeks. I decided that I was going to will myself to feel good (mind over matter, right?) and not spend the day inside and especially in bed. So I didn't. Most of the day, I sat outside, resting and reading on my outdoor furniture, appreciating the flowers and vegetables that my husband had planted the day before, because I couldn't. What a difference to hear the sounds around me of people enjoying the weather. The smells of grilling, spring blooms and grass being cut made me feel better. This was just what the doctor ordered!

I didn't nap on Monday and had P.J. bring Patrick home at 6 p.m. to sleep at home with us for the first time in a week. Patrick had already had his dinner and bath and was ready for me to love on him very carefully. I sat on the floor with my arms opened trying to get him to come hug me. He wouldn't. He's mad at me that I've been away from him, out of our routine. Patrick's my buddy, my shadow. Most days, I can't wait for P.J. to take Georgia to school so that Patrick and I can have the house to ourselves. At least Patrick won't remember this time when I couldn't take care of him, everyone says. But I remember, I think. Finally after letting Patrick warm up to me for 30 minutes while I play with his favorite cars, he gives me a hug and I get him to snuggle into my arms long enough to cover him with kisses.

Patrick sleeps well at home that night - from 7 p.m. - 6 a.m. We play more and I make him breakfast until he leaves with P.J. at 9 a.m. to go back to GoGo's house for the day. I think to myself "this is the best!" My days are free to work on my photos, nap when needed, take it easy. I get my baby in the evening and morning when I can be fresh and not distracted by anything else. Then I had a cold, rainy Tuesday with gradual increase of pain and drained of energy. All I could do was go to bed. After watching Oprah's next to the last show, I turned off the tv and slept from 10 a.m. until 3 p.m. I couldn't believe it. My breast cancer big sister Susanne stopped over to check on me and I told her about my pain and exhaustion. She had also done this same surgery three years prior and she said this is normal. Since Susanne is also an accomplished vascular surgeon, I have extra confidence in her. She looked at my bandaged incisions and reassured me that I will be fine but that I have to do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. I told her that I was doing nothing and she questioned me which made me think harder. I realized that while enjoying the weather on Monday, that I had actually pulled some weeds and cleaned out my little fairy garden that is planted in an old galvanized steel washed tub. Hardly, heavy lifting, given how I normally work outside; but obviously enough to kick my butt.

O.K. I get it now. Yesterday wasn't any better. As soon as our sweet cleaning lady could change the sheets on my bed, I was back in it and stayed there until 1:30 p.m. I made myself get up so that I would be able to sleep at night. By 2 p.m., I was burrowed into the sofa in front of my big tv in the sitting room of my kitchen watching Martha Stewart, Nate Berkus, All My Children (let me say how sad I am that it's going off the air this fall) and Extra. This is a luxury that I could not afford if Patrick were under my care. I guess I need to surrender, relax and enjoy. I can't sit still for long.

Today is cold (44 degrees), wet (think we must have gotten 3+ inches of rain in the past 24 hours) and windy. Since our addition was completed two years ago, we've noticed the wind more than ever as it howls around our house year-round. Could it be the aerodynamics changed so much with the addition that it has more area to travel? I digress. Anyway, I am back in bed (you guessed it) with my heating pad. Don't know what to watch on tv now that Oprah's off the air - so that's why I'm writing this. And it has made me feel much better! Time for a nap!