On Resting
I do not like to rest. If I am "resting," I might as well be sleeping. Sleeping is a worthwhile activity that helps my body and my brain become stronger. Resting is just... silliness.
It is more painful for me to sit still and rest than the pain from my surgery. I know people who like resting, people who know that a little rest now means they can do more later. But resting, to me, feels like failure. Achieving means I'm finding a way to do what needs to be done. Letting the day pass me by... totally failure.
This past Thursday, after my surgery, I was pretty sore. My kids were at school. My parents went home. All I had to do all day was rest.
About 10 minutes into it (maybe 20), I'd had enough resting. I was fidgety and anxious to get moving. But, I couldn't.
Nothing about resting is relaxing for me. I am relaxed when I can get things done. I am relaxed when I check things off my list. I am NOT RELAXED when I am sitting on the couch watching TV. I don't like watching TV.
So, I tried reading. I like reading. At least I can learn something. But sitting still for hours... UGH.
Oh, and have I mentioned how painful it is for me not to exercise? I generally go to the gym five or six times a week. It is my sanity. I'm losing my sanity (at least for another week or two)!
And yet, here is the conundrum: it hurts to walk around... a lot. I am sore. I have to not do what I am used to doing. I have to slow down in order to heal so that I can do all the things I want to do when I am healed.
I know, a few days of rest is better than six weeks in the hospital. I've managed to make it through worse. But, I was also unable to get myself out of bed for most of those six weeks. If I could have, I would have. And, for the last 10 days, in rehab, I did as much as they would possibly let me do. I didn't sit in bed. I slept or worked on my therapies - I achieved. I did not fail.
I know that this too shall pass and although it feels as if time is standing still, I'm sure it'll actually pass quickly. Before I know it, I'll be back to doing the things I love to do. Really, I just love doing.
And, lucky me, the doctor who has saved my life on more than one occasion has once again completed a successful surgery. I do not have to face this recovery period again. I no longer have to have yearly cerebral angiograms. YAY!
I get how blessed I am. Although I am struggling to remember to be grateful at this particular moment, I can stop and think about how differently all of this could have gone. I could have had a lifetime of resting, in a half-there mind and body. Instead, I only have two weeks of resting. I can do this. Really, I can. I'm psyching myself up. I'm ready. Let's go... sit on the couch!
It is more painful for me to sit still and rest than the pain from my surgery. I know people who like resting, people who know that a little rest now means they can do more later. But resting, to me, feels like failure. Achieving means I'm finding a way to do what needs to be done. Letting the day pass me by... totally failure.
This past Thursday, after my surgery, I was pretty sore. My kids were at school. My parents went home. All I had to do all day was rest.
About 10 minutes into it (maybe 20), I'd had enough resting. I was fidgety and anxious to get moving. But, I couldn't.
Nothing about resting is relaxing for me. I am relaxed when I can get things done. I am relaxed when I check things off my list. I am NOT RELAXED when I am sitting on the couch watching TV. I don't like watching TV.
So, I tried reading. I like reading. At least I can learn something. But sitting still for hours... UGH.
Oh, and have I mentioned how painful it is for me not to exercise? I generally go to the gym five or six times a week. It is my sanity. I'm losing my sanity (at least for another week or two)!
And yet, here is the conundrum: it hurts to walk around... a lot. I am sore. I have to not do what I am used to doing. I have to slow down in order to heal so that I can do all the things I want to do when I am healed.
I know, a few days of rest is better than six weeks in the hospital. I've managed to make it through worse. But, I was also unable to get myself out of bed for most of those six weeks. If I could have, I would have. And, for the last 10 days, in rehab, I did as much as they would possibly let me do. I didn't sit in bed. I slept or worked on my therapies - I achieved. I did not fail.
I know that this too shall pass and although it feels as if time is standing still, I'm sure it'll actually pass quickly. Before I know it, I'll be back to doing the things I love to do. Really, I just love doing.
And, lucky me, the doctor who has saved my life on more than one occasion has once again completed a successful surgery. I do not have to face this recovery period again. I no longer have to have yearly cerebral angiograms. YAY!
I get how blessed I am. Although I am struggling to remember to be grateful at this particular moment, I can stop and think about how differently all of this could have gone. I could have had a lifetime of resting, in a half-there mind and body. Instead, I only have two weeks of resting. I can do this. Really, I can. I'm psyching myself up. I'm ready. Let's go... sit on the couch!
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