Recovery, like all good things, takes time. Don't short yourself.
Dee lives in Delaware County, Pennsylvania, with her boyfriend and their cat. She works, cooks, knits, writes and is studying to be a CPA. She plans on living to be 106.
About a year ago, I was in my fourth week of cancer treatment. I had two more hot dates in the chemo infusion room and two more weeks of radiation before it was all over.
It’s now been almost a month since having those nasty little aneurysms clipped. Goodbye and good riddance. Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.
I’m healing again. One year after all the cancer nonsense, I find myself settled into my little corner of the living room couch, television remote in hand, crocheting project at the ready and completely covered in grey and white fur thanks to our cat.
Recovery is an ever-so-strange state for me to be in. I’m an antsy little thing; an early bird who likes to knock stuff off her to-do list. I like to wake up in the morning with a purpose and take care of business.
Over a mug of tea, I’ll open my Day Runner up and see if there’s anything that needs to be done. My spring classes start next week and I have to meet with my academic advisor to see if I can get all of my requirements out of the way for a June 2017 graduation. My resume needs updating. And I have to plan what I’ll be teaching in my crocheting classes for the next few months.
How quickly I’ve forgotten that I have to heal a bit more before I can tackle any of that. It’s entirely escaped me that my cat’s got the right idea. Naps are good ... really good. I have to keep reminding myself what my neurosurgeon, his resident and his nurse all told me: While your brain is heals, you’re going to get tired. Really, really tired.
I also need to remember that there are no heroes when it comes to this healing business. I had major surgery and this is going to take time. This shouldn’t be rushed and there’s no timetable to follow on when I’ll be ready to take on the world again. It could be another two weeks or it might take a month. The key to this is to throw all of my expectations out the window and take it as it comes. For someone who likes to be just a wee little bit in control (ha!), that’s a really hard thing to do.
So, I’ll make myself another cup of tea and get comfortable on the couch. Our cat will climb into my lap and settle in for a “cat therapy” session, which is incredibly soothing. I’ll work on crocheting the afghan and listen to my accounting lectures from last semester so I’ll be ready to go next week.
I'll take a nap too. Naps are good. Really, really good.