Day 10

Interestingly, I’m having a lot of trouble determining how many days it’s been since surgery. I keep counting over and over again, and it doesn’t make sense. I think it’s day 10.

I’m finding that I’m doing more than I should. There are times when I feel completely normal; my head is clear, my body feels fine. I feel like I can have a clear conversation and there are no barriers. And then suddenly have trouble word-finding and stutter. I’m slow, my coordination is off, and it hurts if I bend over too far.

Today was one of the first days where I had another family member watching my toddler other than him being at my house with help.

Within that stillness, I realized how much I was overdoing it. Realized how tired I was having conversations that lasted for more than 40 minutes to an hour. I’m really so overstimulated. I was exhausted by simple things like going to the store. I kept reaching for a quiet space, simple routines, monotonous tasks.

Well, I felt too tired to turn on an audiobook; I was able to turn on TV quietly but not watch or listen to it. It was the focusing that was causing me trouble, not the background noise.

The day before, I went with family to a children’s Museum, where my son could play and have a lot of fun. Well, I had a lot of help. However, it was like a situation in a pool: when there’s too much help, there was no help at all. I felt like I was constantly following my toddler and trying to help him play and stop him from getting into trouble. Everyone else enjoyed the experience.

Theoretically, there was no problem with this, but physically it was way more than I should have handled. We also went to dinner at a restaurant right after, and this was overstimulating as well. I had to constantly entertain and try to feed my toddler in a loud restaurant. At the end of this night, I felt terrible. I had an extreme headache and felt nauseous. I had some of the side effects I had earlier on, after my surgery: blurred vision, extreme fatigue, and dissociation.

So today I tried to check in with my body and slow down. I realized my incision was swollen. Thankfully, not red; there is no drainage, and no neurological symptoms that didn't resolve with rest, so there is no true concern. I needed to listen to my body; I needed to back off. This activity was slowing my recovery and possibly sending me back.

At this point, I don’t know how to be still; I feel like to recover I need to completely remove myself from society and have like a quiet space where I don’t feel pressured to be productive, help, or be around.

Another thing that happened that was interesting is that I posted a photo of our family. After doing this, I realized I was processing a big fear I had before my surgery. I felt a severe amount of sadness. Again, my lesion was in my right temporal lobe, which is connected with my emotional memory. When I experienced this sadness, I felt a sudden severe amount of pain. I felt like something was stabbing me in the head. My vision went out in my right eye; I was in tears. I felt like I couldn’t walk. I asked for some help, and as I was able to regulate my emotions, these symptoms dissipated and resolved completely. I realized at this moment that this part of my brain was struggling to heal and was not ready to handle such deeply rooted pain.

Maybe it wasn’t bad to feel or process emotions, but I felt like I needed to be cautious about letting these faster and maybe slowly encourage healthy processing, likely with the counselor at some point, and maybe not this early in my surgery recovery.

Time is going very slow and very fast at the same time. I feel like I should be ready to do everything and somehow disappointing myself for not being fully recovered. But there’s another part of me that wants more time. It’s craving more space and more freedom for self-discovery. I’m putting too much pressure on that part of this experience. However, at the very least, I was really hoping to enjoy some fantasy novels and some quiet time.

I haven’t had that experience yet.