slow
If you have not read my previous blog “unforeseen” please do so for context. This blog is somewhat of a continuation of my previous blog. You can find it here.
Having surgery is no joke and the healing process is life’s lesson in patience, diligence and mindfulness. June 11 marks six weeks post-op and I am slowly returning to normal rhythms. While the past month and half has challenged me, there are glimmers in the midst of it all.
I am so, so looking forward to a return of all normal activities. Last week, I added gentle stretching and yoga; this week I am adding lower body strength training and submerging in water; next week I am adding upper body strength training and returning to massage therapy work in a limited capacity. I’m certainly playing it by ear, but I am also looking forward to feeling strong enough to pull weeds, carry bricks and mulch and all the general hard work that happens in my backyard micro-farm.
Coming back to massage — the work I really love — is its own little reward. The work is healing and helpful to my clients, but it’s healing and helpful for me too. To offer massage therapy, I have to be at my best: physically, emotionally, mentally; so that I can offer that to each person I lay hands on. I’m looking forward to connecting in that space.
Underlying the schedules, challenges and milestones are a bounty of blessings. A few that particularly speak to me are: the urgency of stopping and resting; reseting my go-go attitude with the pace of healing. There have been an abundance of opportunities for Austin and I to communicate; I’ve had to ask for help constantly and he has had to advocate for himself and his needs. Our connection feels stronger than it ever has before. Another blessing of the greatest proportion has been the outreach; the outpouring of love, support and concern from my greater friend group has been the best; their support makes me want to be a better, more caring human.
The healing process has been slow, difficult, and consistently present. I’ve faced challenges with boundaries around my schedule, sleep, and other routines; having to make decisions to step outside of the rules I have in place. Taking on sedentary desk work has whipped my brain into a new variety of focusing, while having limited movement outlet options. And of course, the topical sadness and grief that comes from generalized FOMO.
The road to recovery has been a humbling teacher. The past six weeks have tested me in more ways than one, but even in the struggle, there have been moments of light and clarity. As I celebrate this week’s milestone, I am ready to step back into the work I love.