Well, I’m halfway through The Week I Dreaded. One week out of the hospital, kids back to homeschooling, husband back to work and a pile of doctor appointments just to top it off. I’m still on crutches, still am unable to carry much of anything (including my precious little baby who previously thought the sling was the only place to nap) and still have to take three hours out of every day to just sit around and wait for the antibiotics to drip into my veins through the PICC line.
Everyone keeps telling me to “hang in there.” To try not to let this get me down. That frustration and even slight depression is normal with these kinds of things involving a slow and sometimes painful recovery. Even my insurance company called to tell me about my behavioral health benefits, ask me a ton of questions about my general mood and leave me with a list of signs that could indicate I should seek professional help. That all came along with the approval for the home health nurse to come out and visit me on the only two days a week I’m not seeing a doctor of some sort.
And all I’m thinking is, “Hey! I can make myself a cup of tea now!” or “I was able to get out of bed all by myself for the first time yesterday!” Yes, we take great delight in the little things around here. But this is the thing. Every day I feel better. I feel stronger. And compared to two weeks ago while I lay crying with the most intense pain I have experienced. . . which caused the room to swirl before me purely from the pain. . .I feel great.
And I’m blessed with loving friends in a good church who have organized meals for our family, have volunteered to take turns watching my children so I can go to appointments and are canceling a bible study to come out and clean my house. Who can sit around and feel sorry for themselves when met with such an outpouring of generosity?
(And we just bought a house which gives me no end of things to day dream about while I sit on my little spot nestled in pillows on the couch. But that is something else entirely.)
Back to homeschooling. Things have been going pretty well. We haven’t gotten as much done as I would have liked, but perhaps more than I actually expected. My son even asked if we could start early today because he knows I have a “challenge project” planned. After all, he was there when we bought the straws and his little mind is racing to try to figure out what on earth mom is planning with a milk jug, tooth picks and straws. And what that all has to do with amphibians.
But it feels good to do a little something, to have a bit of the old routine and, most importantly, not feel like a useless bump on the couch. A little purpose to each day, even if it is a seemingly small purpose: do just a little better than the day before.