“A man who is a master of patience is master of everything else. “~George Savile
This day is hell.
Yeah, I know… it will get better. Or tomorrow won’t be so bad or some kind of crap like that. And yes, I know that there will come a day when it won’t be so bad or so hard. But right now in this moment? It is pure hell.
This morning, I was overwhelmed by many people to see me. I know that they were here for my healing processes and what not, but going through the motions has brought me beyond the point of breaking down into so many tears.
The wound care wasn’t so bad. But it is painful enough. And I just cannot tell whether or not I am healing because I cannot see the wound for myself. I have to rely on the judgement of nurses who come to assist with that. But now that I’m starting with a BETTER home health agency, it’s only been day 2 with them and they really have nothing to go by as to whether or not the wound is getting smaller or healing as it should or whatever.
While nursing staff was there, the physical therapist came in for her evaluation as my doctor told PT to come in. I’ve dealt with her before… she’s great! An awesome person, but I’ve not seen her since she discharged me from services about a month ago. I know that she had told me then that if she needed to come back, that she would. However she would not be coming back into my home if the doctor’s orders were to continue to work on the same thing that she and I had been for many months prior, which was the injury to my upper back and shoulders. As she puts it, “we’ve reached that plateau to where there’s nothing I can do that will make anything better.” She also had been doing some deep tissue massage work. (Can you seriously look me in the eye and tell me that nobody would enjoy massage work?) So I didn’t want her to think that’s what the doctor was having her come in for. Of course she knew better. She saw that my condition had actually become worse than it was from the last time she saw me.
How embarrassing for me. And she said she felt sorry that she was seeing me so diminished.
Once the nurse left, the evaluation was nearly over. We started to talk about how things have been going for me since she last saw me, but that was stopped when podiatry came knocking on the door.
Triple whammy, if you will!!
By the time I was nearly done with the PT evaluation, I had gone through so much that I was in pure pain. And several hours away before I could take anything for it.
My level of patience clearly isn’t where it could be. Through my tears, I keep wishing and wishing that this was healed and I can get on with life. Not that I am not grateful for the nursing staff and their help and the agreement that PT will once again come back and work with me. But I just wished that my patience would grow. I know that I still have a long road ahead. I’ve only been out of the hospital for a week and a half. It is just like I said in a previous blog post, but with different circumstances, the NOT KNOWING how long this will take, is pushing me towards the edge of insanity.
I’m not as fast as I used to be. I’m not as strong as I used to be. But I am still alive and I still have my sense of humor. And I blame it all on being flat in a hospital bed for 11 days, whether that is a correct assessment or not. And now my body’s main focus is to try and heal the wound, taking what seems to be every bit of energy out of me to the point that I cannot do other things.
Of course PT recommends that I don’t do a thing over the weekend. But I honestly do not see how I could at this point. So I do not see a problem there.
Just at the point where I was telling others that things were getting better, as slow as it has been. Now I feel like I’ve gone backwards. But right now, that’s just how I feel through all of this pain and discomfort.
I REALLY NEED A HUG!
Dambreaker 