I’m a big, jumbly, batch of mixed emotions today.
I have a lot of fear about another surgery, even a routine, “uncomplicated,” one.
I’m relieved, in a sense, the time has finally come.
(I’ve known it was looming on the horizon since I was informed of the recall on my bionic arm last summer.)
I’m looking forward to getting it over with.
I’m disappointed, sad, and frustrated I have to go through it at all.
I’m eager to move forward.
Did I mention the fear?
I have so much (unreasonable, illogical) fear.
But I’m also feeling very grateful.
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I have an orthopedic surgeon who has gone way beyond his duty to help me. These days, most doctors don’t really CARE – or so it seems. Mine has repeatedly gone out of his way to help me, or to find someone who CAN help me.
I have a pain management specialist who has saved my sanity time and time again by finding ways to help me live my life. While other medical professionals told me (repeatedly) to give up my dreams, he always has tried to help me achieve them. Always.
I have a physical therapist who has helped me to progress further (in just the last few months) than I thought was possible. I used to believe I’d be able to use my arm again. After six and a half years, I no longer did. I had resigned myself to my limitations.
I’m now making progress I can FEEL and SEE. I’m able to do new things. Things that would be so little and small to a “normal” person, but which are HUGE for me.
No one is saying I’ll have a “normal” arm again, but the progress I’ve made in PT these last few months is my own personal miracle.
(I don’t think Paul Newman even realizes how BIG it is, because he hasn’t walked the last six and a half years with me.)
Still, I saw the look of satisfaction on his face as I was leaving PT yesterday.
I am, clearly, so much better than I was when he began helping me a few months ago.
He knows it.
I know it.
Next week, well … it will be a temporary setback.
And then, I’ve already been warned, I’ll have a few months of pretty intense physical therapy.
I feel hopeful again.
Maybe that’s the scariest thing of all …
I’m starting to believe in miracles.