Today is the one week mark for my big injury. The pain is better- I don't feel like I want to tear my arm off all the time- but morale is low. I think it is sinking in that I can't just power through this with a positive attitude. Up until yesterday, I was really hoping to be back to work tomorrow. Now I realize how pie in the sky that was. I really thought if I just wished it better, I could somehow speed up my recovery. Mind over matter and all. Then I went to the Gap yesterday with my mom (she is the queen of pushing just a bit too hard- the day after my dad had a heart attack she was lecturing him that he couldn't "just lounge around the house all day") just to get comfy stuff I can wear now....and I nearly lost my shizz at the Gap. I'm tired and cranky. I'm sick of feeling like a broken bulldozer- I'm constantly dropping stuff and knocking stuff over. I feel so helpless- I can't even put my own hair in a clip. I'm sleeping in a recliner, so I'm really not sleeping super well. everything hurts- my muscles are sore from being in basically the same position all the time.
-sigh-
I know in the scheme of things, this too shall pass and I need to be more patient. I'm lucky that my injuries weren't worse. And I'm so, so lucky to have my parents so close by- they have been wonderful about taking care of both me and Brewster! I'm truly grateful.
I need to keep reminding myself of this when my dressing is itching like crazy, my arm hurts, my hoodie is falling off because I can only drape it over my shoulder, my ice pack falls on the floor and I can't reach it, and Brewster is trying to climb up into my lap!!
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