The Hardest Part

It’s been nearly three weeks since my surgery. I’ve been completely off any kind of pain meds – even the over the counter stuff for about a week to 10 days.

You’d think I’d be focused on the positives, the incremental steps in the right direction – and I am.

Except when I’m not.

Physically, I feel nearly as well as I did before the surgery – and that “nearly” should be a flag of some kind. I’m still occasionally napping during the day, so that should tell me that I’m still needing this time to rest, and heal, and recover.

But there are times, like this morning, when I wake up feeling pretty good, and then I see the signs of the inevitable slippage that occurs when a two-person household (in terms of upkeep) turns into a one person (and some change) household, and I have to remind myself that I cannot just DO ALL THE THINGS lest I cause problems for myself later on.

I feel a little useless, sometimes. And I know that’s not the case.

But the thoughts are there. Fueled, no doubt, by the “Sleep when yer dead” mentality prevalent in society while I was growing up. I recognize that. And I also recognize that this is changing. I’ll be one of the first to tell you to take care of yourself when you’re not feeling well, to take the time that you need.

Why is it so hard to tell myself that, or for me to listen when I do?

So in defiance of all of those awful little brain weasels, I am giving myself the rest of the day off. Both physically (not that I was doing much in that arena to begin with) and mentally (which was doing all of the heavy lifting for the past few weeks).

Today is for me.

Thanks for reading.

Be safe out there. Be Excellent to Each other – and yourself.

I’ll see you on Thursday.


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Weird Wild West


Predators in Petticoats