High and Lows

So one of the issues I have with life in general is that it keeps moving. It would have been super-nice if for the last year and a half, time had stood still while I dealt with this. But, unfortunately, I seem to have misplaced the giant Pause button that stops life. So in the meantime, I go to work, and brush my teeth, and buy purses and coffee filters. And manage friendships and move from one apartment to the next. In other words, I have my life to live. And life after this last surgery is no exception. I'm back at work, and grocery shopping, and doing my laundry, etc. But some of the main problems I'm having are the side effects from the drugs. One of them has the most ridiculous side effects. On one hand, it's horrifying, but on the other hand, it has created some AWESOME hilarity in chronic pain stories. Example 1: Inability to talk. No kidding. For about an hour after I take the pill (which I do three times a day) I lose my ability to speak. I think thoughts in my head, but they get lost on their way out of my mouth. Example 2: Forgetfulness. And not your run of the mill, did I turn the coffeemaker off, forgetfulness. Like, missing chunks of time, putting the car in reverse instead of drive, forgetfulness. Example 3: Inability to walk when mixed with painkillers. I started physical therapy on Wednesday (we'll get to that in a minute) and took my first painkiller since day 7 post-op. When I wasn't taking this crazy prescription. I took the painkiller before bed and tried to get up in the middle of the night to see why the neighbors were making so much noise. And I fell down. And took most of the things on a shelf with me. When I woke up in the morning, I wasn't even sure if that had really happened (see Ex. 2) until I looked over to see my stuff EVERYWHERE and a huge scratch in the wall. Oh well. It's a rental. SO! Lets get to the good stuff. Physical therapy. AQUATIC therapy, to be specific. Love. It was amazing. I'm kind of a know-it-all when it comes to PT because I've done 16 weeks of it on my ankle already. But I have never done anything in the pool before. It was great to feel so buoyant, and be able to do squats and calf raises on the very first day. I was getting some cardio going by pedaling my legs in the deep end for 15 minutes, and I got the most awesome endorphin rush! I was giggling to myself in the water from all those feel-good chemicals! And at the end of my session, the physical therapist turned on the jets in the pool and it became my own private hot tub. I was required by my physician to sit on a bench and let warm jetted water massage my leg. I may or may not have positioned myself so that my back was directly in front of a jet also. Hey, I gotta make the best out of this! I will say that about an hour later the pain was pretty all-consuming (hence the painkiller before bed) but the next day I felt good. Sore, but like I used my muscles sore. It's a feeling I have missed. So at this point, I'm waiting. Waiting to get off these drugs and waiting to see how my ankle responds to the physical therapy. Waiting to see if the scar tissue returns. Waiting to see if life will pause itself til I get better. Waiting to see if I ever will get better. Waiting to stop waiting!