Two weeks out of surgery and I am still trying to get my "land legs." I have the three Ws of Post-Op covered: wobbly, woozy, and weak. It's a humbling feeling not to be able to take care of my self, to know that I am dependent upon others for so many things and will continue to be so for some weeks to come.
That is the bad part of recovery. But, I've discovered, many joys in the process as well. My sweet husband has been extra good to me during these weeks, taking over household tasks, helping me dress, and lifting my spirits when they tended to become depressed. My sister traveled from Utah to spend ten days with me. My daughter and her family have visited, made me laugh, cleaned house, and a host of other things.
And my friends ... They are, quite simply, the best. They were there with meals, with cards designed to make me laugh, with offers of rides to therapy, with bouquets of flowers and bouquets of caring.
This I know for sure: recovery from surgery isn't pleasant, but reminders that I am loved make it so much more bearable.
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