I’m one week post-surgery, officially POD8, and sitting in the sun on a Saturday afternoon. I was discharged from the hospital on Wednesday and, if I’m being honest, this recovery has been something of a roller coaster. You never know until you’ve been through the treatment how your body will absorb the trauma, and mine has some strong opinions, it turns out.
READ MORECategory: Recovery
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You can’t always get what you want (or more waiting …)
This past Tuesday was supposed to start with an appointment with my surgeon to review pathology results. It didn’t go exactly as planned. Even though it’s been five weeks since my surgery, the pathology report wasn’t ready yet.
The why? of that is a good question.
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Souvenirs and self-image
Today marks four weeks since my surgery. I don’t know why that seems like an important date, but that is how it feels. More so because I’m still in that liminal space between diagnosis, surgery, and discovering what comes next based on a still unknown pathology report.
Slowly, my incisions are fading into what will be stories to tell to future training partners. It never occurred to me that these external marks would be a talisman of sorts — a reminder that my body can do hard things and heal from trauma that wasn’t invited in.
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Milestones and mild weather
Two Fridays ago, I unlocked a post-surgery milestone — I walked a 5k loop I’ve run many times before. I was surprised that I didn’t feel left out because I couldn’t join the evening runners who were out on the same route. Rather, I was enjoying the movement and that I wasn’t thinking about the effort. For a moment I could pretend that I’m not still waiting on my pathology results and my first post-op follow up appointment with my surgeon.
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R words — Rest and recovery
It was chilly when my alarm roused me at 7:00am. I hit the snooze button at least three times before I threw off the covers and parked myself in the shower. A latenight work call (hello timezone shifting) meant I was working on just four hours sleep, but I had a date to meet a friend in town before she and her family headed back home. The plan was to have breakfast together and then I’d answer a few emails before indulging in an nap of undetermined length.
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Running from hysteria 