I’ve tried to keep this blog honest and informative, while avoiding an all-too-easy devolution into a daily rant or pity-pot diary of complaints. I’ve also tried to keep a positive attitude in my real life. To roll with the complications and setbacks. To truly believe that it’s all temporary and leading to a better life. To be strong and stoic and patient and brave. I succeed most days and, even when I find myself stewing or angry or scared or sad, it’s usually fleeting. But since coming home from the hospital after my emergency surgery, it’s been difficult. By my count, since June 27, I’ve had maybe 3 weeks of relative comfort. For the other 15 weeks, I’ve been in pain. Sometimes minor, sometimes unbearable, but always something.
I’ve been on medical leave from work for 10 weeks total, with at least another 10 days on the horizon (not to mention whatever I will need following my eventual re-takedown surgery). Although I’m extremely grateful for my employer’s support (which has been pretty incredible), it’s starting to get ridiculous. I’m a lawyer. I work with smart, talented people. I write. I solve problems. I help people. I win stuff. I give advice. That’s what I do. In many ways, that’s who I am. And I haven’t been able to do it. For months. Walking around the block three times a day, strategically timing my pain meds, and trying not to watch too much TV simply doesn’t fill that void.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this. It’s already not what I sat down to write. But the tears are streaming down my face, so it must be what I was supposed to write. I’m not depressed. But I am a little sad. And I’m frustrated. And tired. And angry. And scared. But I’m also grateful. And hopeful. It will get better. I know that. What I don’t know is when, and not knowing sucks.