There are moments in life when time seems to stand still. This is absolutely one of those moments.
Recovering from a serious illness or injury is a time-consuming thing. The days and nights begin to blend in with each other, then the days start to bleed together. The next thing you know, a month has passed and you wonder how it’s possibly been that long.
It is hard to believe it’s been a month. Not much has changed since I came out of surgery and back into ICU. A lot of the swelling has gone down and the pain isn’t quite as bad, but I’m still in pain. Still practically bed-ridden. I can move my left leg a little on my own, but very little.
Some days the pain is so intense that I feel like I’m eating pain pills like they’re candy and still not getting more than minimal relief. I feel like I hurt all the time.
I have a wheelchair that I often resent with all my heart and hate to be in. It’s a mental image I’m struggling to accept since there is a chance, a rather good one in fact, that I will be tied to it for the rest of my life to some degree.
The chair itself, while certainly the best choice for my condition, is a hulking monster of a contraption that causes impolite stares everywhere I go, even at the doctor. With an anxiety disorder, people staring is the last thing I need, so I tend to not even try to go out unless I have to.
I’ve come to feel lost and like a burden to those I love. I can’t even be left alone for an hour. I feel helpless.
It’s all very depressing in and of itself but add to that the fact that the life I had, the life I spent more than a year building, is gone now.
Two wheels, no matter how much better for the environment they may be, will never happen again. Even the thought of a loved one getting on one sends me into an anxiety attack.
My beloved camper will never be home again because of its size. It’s just too small for my chair. I almost got sent to a nursing home in another county against my will because the hospital wouldn’t release me unless we made more appropriate arrangements.
Life, as I knew it before the accident, is now a closed chapter.
Now, I spend my days (and many nights) worried about the future. Where will we go? How will we support ourselves when I have to have around the clock care and we can’t afford to hire anyone to look after me for him to work?
Will I walk again? How well and for how long if I can?
The thought that my left leg, since it was already damaged prior to the accident, might never work properly again, is something I have to deal with. The chances of full mobility are nill anyway because I was already having trouble with it.
I still have another four weeks to go before there’s even a chance of being able to put a little weight on it to see if it’s even going to work. If it does, I still have a long and painful recovery ahead to find out what it will and won’t do.
It’s all very depressing.
Right now my life is in limbo and there isn’t a damn thing I can do but wait.