This is good news! So why am I not happy? Siiiigh. I feel like I should be really excited or relieved that I'm making progress, that I should be thanking my lucky stars that I'm not going into the hospital four times a week for physical therapy (or that I was never staying in the hospital at all, for that matter). But I'm not.
Listening to my doctor recite my walking regimen, I could just feel myself get more and more discouraged. "Five minutes, 10 minutes, 15 minutes. Three times a day, four times a day, five times." I think my smile faltered a little with each increment.
I don't really know why - you'd think if I was going to be discouraged it would've been when I first fell and found out I wouldn't be able to walk. As I'm thinking about it now, I think I was so wrapped up in everything else that was going on (i.e. the fact that I still had two shows to put on in the next three days), that this whole not-walking thing took a backseat. I know that sounds crazy, and somewhat impossible for that to not be the center of my attention, but....you'll just have to trust me that it wasn't.
And then after the shows...I think the last seven weeks I've done a really good job of not wallowing in self-pity. I think it might be because I've known a lot of people who just blow their own problems way out of proportion and milk them for all the sympathy and perks they can get, and that always drives me crazy. I was determined not to be one of those people. So I tried to go about my day as normally as possible (which, really, became a completely different day than normal, but I still tried to function) and not broadcast my situation to anyone within earshot. I was happy to find I did a good job with that part when just yesterday a cousin of mine noticed on facebook that someone posted asking how I was doing, and she (the cousin) wondered what was going on. That made me smile. I don't know why, really. But I was not going to be one of those people complaining about all their problems on facebook, so I was pleased to know I had kept that promise to myself.
Sorry, that was a bit of a tangent. The people I have interacted with over the last several weeks have been so sympathetic and kind. And they always say "Oh, that must be so awful" or "How terrible, you must be miserable!" ...and I've always responded by just saying that it could have been so much worse. Which it could have, no question. But I think I was more just trying to deflect the question about how I was dealing with it.
Again, I think I've handled this really well. Being on 'bed rest' for three weeks. Sleeping in a recliner. Not being able to use my own bedroom or bathroom or desk. Not being able to drive. Going out in public in a wheelchair. Not to mention the pain. Which, now that I bring it up, was and continues to be intense. But that's not my point.
Maybe last week's experience at the theatre just wore my patience thin, maybe it's the fact that summer camp is only four weeks away but...I'm just done with it now. I guess I've worn out all my tolerance for this situation. Which is why, I suppose, now that I've actually got 'good news,' I'm nothing but irritated. Part of me wants to smack myself upside the head for being frustrated, but....I think I've just decided that at some point during this process, I'm entitled to be mad, and if I want to save it till the end, then that's completely fine. Heh. So that's what I'm doing!
I'll just hope that as I starting 'walking' and actually make some progress I'll get more encouraged. I think that's quite likely. It's also quite likely that I'll just be irritated that I can't run from the stage to the booth in ten seconds. Oh well....
But now, the real downside of being cleared to start walking?
No more motorized scooters at the stores. -_-
