04/21/2023
4/20/23 - 6 Week Surgeon Appt was today.
Good News/Bad News
I received very positive remarks from the surgeon today about my overall situation:
✅ X-Rays show my breaks are healing nicely and bones are where they belong - so no surgery on the horizon.
✅ PT I have done at home has increased my mobility beyond what she expected.
I will continue with PT at home and in their clinic for another 6 weeks when I go back for X-Rays and see the surgeon next.
All that was great. I wanted to know if I could ride my bike, lift, lift things, lift myself, grandchild, etc. and she said no, that we needed to see where I was at - at my “next” 6 week visit. 😭 😭😭😭
She kept filling me with praise on how well I’ve done and acknowledged how much pain I’m in and how well I’m handling it. She restated again and again how horrible the elbow is to heal from a break. Blah blah blah. I love her she’s sweet. All I heard was “Another 6 weeks.”
If you have cancer, a terminal illness or chronic life long illness stop reading.
I know I have no right to whine/complain.
But my body and emotions aren’t listening to my brain right now.
I lost it on the way home. Bawled like a baby.
I’m still grieving. I feel just like the shock my body went through when I landed on that driveway, and thought I’d pass out and throw up at the same time.
I worked so hard to get to 6 weeks. Had that built up in my mind as THE DAY. The mark. The goal. Etc. And I’ll be damned if the goal post didn’t get moved on me.
I’m in shock. Another 6 weeks. And on that day - I just get more information.
I can promise you one thing. On that day I’m riding my damn bike. Maybe sooner. I’ve got a rebellious streak in me the size of The Grand Canyon. It’s all I can do to keep it together right now and not go completely off the deep end.
6 weeks is a long ass time.
The End. I need to go break stuff.
I can’t even go take an Epson salt bath because I can’t get my big ass out of that tiny bath tub without two hands. I know. TMI.
I better go to bed and recite “His mercies are new every morning,” again and again.
And pray I stop cussing.