Post Op week 2

One of the most fascinating parts of not really being the puzzlemaster of my own life for the last few weeks has been watching my  friends figure out where they fit,  how they can fill the holes.  How they can arrange the puzzle.  Flipping all the pieces face up so that nothing gets missed, none of the corners get lost, no one gets left without sleep or food or transportation, or cookies.  No parts get left in the dark box.  If I thought I had secrets before I certainly have none now.  There have been people in all parts of my life stepping in to take care of me and the boys and each other.  It is humbling and transformative. And if all it took to see it was a little brain surgery than I am indeed a fortunate soul. .Except for the waiting room puzzle ladies.  Those are just creepy.

Many people have come out of the woodwork.  The sort of wave in the drop off line friends that have been constant in their presence.  Dropping off food or boys. Or just sitting on the end of the couch and filling me in on life outside the driveway.  Spontaneous generations of community building right here in my living room. I don’t make friends quickly so this has been quite thrilling and I am looking forward to building on those friendships.  Lots of our long time friends have come with food and good humor and cleaning supplies!  Bringing with them waves of healing energy that have washed over us like cool rain. Taking us all in and filling the house with their overwhelming goodness. I love how some people will not think twice about leaving the house with a load after load of laundry…really.  More laundry than I have ever seen. Leaving us with a sparkling clean house and clean sheets! ( and curiously, missing underwear…) Oh I slept well that night!  Others whose specialty is food.  Such food!  I think my family will be disappointed to go back to our regular rotation.  We have been so spoiled.  I am impressed with the speed at which people can adapt.  We had no idea that I would come home so soon or that I would be unable to open my mouth when I did. A spontaneous choice by the surgeon to preserve the optic nerve and instead sever all the muscles in my jaw rippled out as a sudden intense need for nutrient dense liquids in addition to the food that was already planned.  And then.  There it was.  Pho, and bone broth, soup of every fashion. Delicious and delivered daily.  I slept through a lot of it but I know all the nutritious food kept Patrick upright through severely fractured sleep and the continuing demands of growing boys.  My appetite is questionable and sometimes good food just doesn’t go down well and I have to avoid sending it back up by any means necessary.  The cranial pressure of vomiting could be a catastrophe at this point so having all of these choices, all this food has been invaluable.  In the time it takes for food to heat I can lose all interest.  But there has so far always been something else that tastes good.  I have had split pea soup for breakfast everyday this week.  I may never give it up!

I feel completely unable to express my deep gratitude for everyone who has helped thus far and am slightly embarrassed to realize that we may need help for some time.  I am determined to cook something soon, but my jailer  er husband objects. He thinks I am not yet ready for knife work.  I have no idea when I will be able to drive. I tried to pretend drive while I was falling asleep last night.  Let’s just say that there are some significant gaps in my knowledge…clutch first? Then gas?  Oy.  I am sure it will come.  Patience grasshopper…

So, post op week 2.  You have been liberating, yay!  No more staples in my head!  Clean sheets!  The ability to walk all the way to the mailbox.  I still need a minder, but I haven’t fallen in days. I am able to mostly identify the pills in the pill bowls now.  Mostly.   Except when S and friends move them around.

I am grateful for the surgeons, and nurses and PT and OT and friends and others who have contributed to what feels like a whirlwind recovery.  How amazing that 14 days can be so very different.  I am thrilled to have reconnected with some old friends and made some new ones.

I am happy to be off the steroids and looking forward to dropping the antiseizure meds soon.  All in all, we are still here and making  forward progress.  We still need your help and are looking at ways to pay it forward.    Let me know if you are in the neighborhood.  I am up for brief forays out into the world and would love to have some company.