I am having a hard time answering the question, How are you doing? lately.
I’m not fine or good or better. Even if you haven’t just had brain surgery, I’m sure more than half of the six people reading this can relate to the sentiment.
How do we reduce our present moment into a digestible sentence for others?
Realistically, I am doing good. I am alive. I am healing. I am regaining my energy and feeling more like myself only two weeks post-op.
The part of me that doesn’t want to be positive all the time
wants to throw herself a quick pity party. She misses the gym and heavy lifting and her morning routine and properly snuggling her husband and side sleeping and her job and half of her hair sometimes.
You are validated, Pity Party Aves, thank you for your authenticity.
Today I went to the gym and did an hour incline walk on the treadmill and unassisted body weight lunges. Part of me is frustrated my current workout is the equivalent of my old warm-up. But most of me is f*cking proud I showed up and continue to move my body in every way possible/allowed by my medical care team.
There is no clear picture of what recovery is supposed to look like. I have some guidelines from the doctor regarding what I can and cannot do for the next three months, but those are all physical limitations. There are no hard-and-fast rules about returning to “normal”, or whatever that looks like now.
I am at leisure to paint this picture day by day and decide how it will all turn out.
I’ve been told several times how my positivity in my current circumstances is inspiring. This made me uncomfortable at first, because in my realistic view of everything, from diagnosis to surgery, there was no time to be scared. To be negative.
But now I have more time, space, and quiet to feel.
And sometimes in these moments, the positivity is severely lacking. Like yesterday, I was sad and in pain for most of the day. An evening walk with Joshua and Ghostie, a bubble bath, and early bedtime helped. But so did letting myself be sad and shed a tear while being held. Feeling the ups AND the downs is an important part of the recovery process.
I’m embracing the fact I can be real and a positive inspiration all at once. Because being authentic in who we are, in our story, is what’s most important.
And all I can do is write my story page by page. All I can do is ride the waves, lest I want to be drowned by them.
And doc’s orders I can’t submerge my head underwater for three months, so drowning is not an option. ;)