my days are too small and boring. i’m either pacing the floor, reclining in my chair or trying to find a comfortable position in bed. one moment i’m thrilled to be alive and healing and other moments i’m just sad and depressed and tired of pain. the one constant is that i hate my brace.
i’ve been home from the hospital for 11 days now and i’m really getting a bit crazy. because of the ice, rain and snow, i haven’t been able to walk outside for days. i can’t sit and paint or even draw for very long. my mind just drifts off into a fuzzy nowhere place. i’m sure this is because of all the pain meds, but still…
i may ask brni to shovel the snow drift away from the back door so that i can do nothing outside instead of in here. but he’s still sleeping…
it appears i’m in danger of rambling instead of writing. i will stop now and post this pitiful thing.
Croneswood Art 
4 responses to “11 days in a brace, 21 more to go”
*hugs*
let me get some caffiene in me first.
LikeLike
Yeah, stir crazy is not fun. And not being able to drive makes it worse – not like you’d really drive anywhere, but just the knowing that you can’t is somehow demoralizing.
Mental vacations are good – lots of pictures of beaches, or woods, or whatever scenery give you the most peace and pleasure. And throwaway fluff novels, too – anything to engage you for long stretches of time.
And I think you’re right that a lot of your mindset is the painkillers. Try and take notice whether the sad-and-depressed is coming around the time that you’re in need of more, because it’s very possible that it’s an actual physical withdrawal. If so, write it off as that, and know that you’ll be past it soon.
*(gentle) hugs*
LikeLike
To quote Led Zeppelin:
Ramble On!
That’s what we’re here for. 🙂
LikeLike
It’s OK . . .
At 11 days, your body is still working on recovering from the surgery trauma (both the anesthesia and the physical trauma) — at least, that’s been my experience. Can you read fluffy novels? What kind do you like? I have shelves full and will happily ship a batch. (When I had my most yuckiest surgery, the best gift I received — besides my own wonderful husband and child — was a whole big bag full of short, silly mysteries.
LikeLike