Frustration, a feeling of dissatisfaction resulting from unfulfilled needs or unresolved problems, has unfortunately become my predominant state of mind. This agitation, which began to dominate my thought processes, seems somewhat ridiculous and ill timed. Now is the period of mobility, now is the time of physical progress, so why should now be the epoch of internal struggle? My attempts to debar these introspections failed miserably, and fruitless frustration continued to perturb my consciousness. It seemed embarrassing and humiliating to admit this weakness when I had formerly accepted family, friends, acquaintances and stranger’s blandishments regarding my strength and supposed lack of self-pity. Outsiders visit and visualize with voluptuous pleasure that I am now vertical. Yet, I view the virile visitor, and am reminded of my restrictions and restricted lifestyle.
Six months was my allowance, the time I had allocated as a health write off, no plans, no firm expectations and therefore minimal disappointment, or such was the theory. Yet, six months is three weeks away and I am far from exciting excursions and expeditions. On the day of my surgery, as electrodes were being forcefully glued onto head, furious phone calls to Wyndham’s theatre were distracting or diverting my attention. A hospital gown, white stockings and electrodes, causing my lustrous locks to be restyled into the coiffure of a mad scientist, were the perfect persuasive tools for my mother to buy tickets to see David Tennant and Catherine Tate in the Shakespeare play, Much Ado About Nothing. Yet, now the witty sparring between Benedick and Beatrice seems further away than Messina. I find my despondency over something as insignificant, in the scale of my life, as a theatre ticket, beyond ludicrous. I am sure that my surgeon would describe me as naïve and unrealistic to have set six months in stone and therefore in the words of Dogberry,
“O that he were here to write me down an ass! But masters, remember that I am an ass. Though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an ass.”
Things are never as bright as we would want them to be. Take time out and think how things have changed. Remember you will be sitting in a theater with other normal people. It is surprising how easy we forget the simple pleasures of a normal life. Sit back and enjoy those hours of normality.
ReplyDelete@EvlScot - Hoping a dorsal root ganglion nerve block will return normality for him.
I'm two months away from my first anniversary after major spinal fusion and frustration, I'm afraid, still follows me to this very day.
ReplyDeleteHowever, when travelling on the train to work everyday, I pass by the hospital in which I spent some of the most horrid hours - and I'm reminded about how far I've come, and far I've yet still to go. Recovery is a bitch. Patience is its homeboy.
When my back surgeon matter of factly said to me , a 42 yr old man who had not slept for 6 months, lost weight father of 3 mortgage worries mounting that 'Time would be the healer' of my rotted discs - I wanted more.
ReplyDeleteYear 5 now - and every night I go to bed I fall asleep ! I am so grateful-every night, I am so grateful. Pain is no longer constant, concentration has improved, i am a fidgeter staying still is ruinous, but now I cope with only varying degerees of pain and discomfort- uncomfortableness is nothing.
There were never moments that marked the changes, for me. For me.For you this might be the same.
Not for one moment, having read some of your posts, do I equate my back with your back but I went to a place that I thought was a bad dream only to find it was bloody real. I got through it.tears, false stoicism, despair I watched as the world passed me by, my days lasted 24 hours. My only solice was my mantra as I yelled at the pain fizzing round my body to do its worst - I would take on the pain - it would beat me- exhaust me - I even chanted a mantra " We all turn to dust, we all turn to dust" Reassuring myself that this would end some day.
People get through.You can get through.
Think of it this way. You are leaving your prison(Bedroom).
ReplyDeleteYour case worker (Mum) is fighting your side.
Like the previous poster my prison is run by the likes of Cheltenam and Glocester, BP and Tesco. At one point I felt trapped like you and I tried to make a break for freedom.
Having got onto the roof I decided to reconcider the risks of life on the run and stayed put.
Hopefully if I let the rehabilitation process take its course, I will be able to reap the rewards of being a productive member of society.
We (You, me and your followers) have had the strength to get this far. We can get there.
@EvlScot
Are you saying you think you won't be able to go to the play? That would be awful! There's still time left, though - more than a month!
ReplyDelete