Delusions-R-Us

I had a not so new revelation yesterday – I’d really, truly expected to come out of this latest big, nasty surgery all bright, shiny and new penny-ish. I'd be WAY more than just light one egregious, dastardly, ratfucking, strength zapping, killah tumor.

I had GIANT fantasies which I KNEW were, at best, ridiculously delusional…like: 

• Coming outta the OR WITH hearing – this despite the, now gone, doberman sized meningioma being a newbie (and NOT an acoustic neuroma). Maybe it had actually, sneakily been the cause of my deafening 15 years ago! A time traveling tumor? It could happen…right?
• Brill, balance beam ready equilibrium would be mine once more (despite both my balance nerves being severed eons ago so the surgeons could get at the neuromas slacking on my hearing nerves).
• I'd come off the table and, instantly, be back to full strength and energy. 

Yesterday’s PT intake session put paid to all these air castles, these fantastical chimeras. 

Jackie, my new PT, thought I was doing great, had a good amount of strength and that my balance/walking was decent (apart from a bit of “swaying”). But…but…I can’t walk a full mile, I’m still beat-city after doing just one round of the exercises prescribed by my visiting PTs.

I don’t FEEL like I’m going gangbusters. I’m still weak – some days absurdly so. 20 minute walks knock me out. Long rides in the car (I’m fucking sitting the whole time) are even more exhausting!

Patience everyone tells me, be patient with yourself. Ten said this to me, for the five billionth time this morning and I rolled my eyes so hard that, pretty sure, I broke the sky.

The good Doc Barker warned me that this slice-a-rama wouldn’t magically make me 18 again  He told me, in so many specific words, that this little craniotomy was gonna be way more than just the drive-by that I kept calling it.

Still, a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest
Paul Simon – The Boxer

Here’s what I wanna know – how is it in any way fair OR sensible that, at 18, I was in beautiful, PEAK physical shape BUT intellectually and emotionally I was a goddamned mess. Wouldn’t it have made a shitload more sense for me to have wisdom, maturity, resilience and fab corporeal agility and strength at the same damn time (like RIGHT now would be nice)? I’m askin’ ya, mes amis! 

And another thing…I’m pretty tired of these uphill climbs.

Last year I struggled to rebuild/reinvigorate after my spine surgery. I was doing fairly well when, in late November, the rat bastard, giant, piece of smelly-ass dog turd meningioma took me down. I’m bored with Recovery Road, dammit. I wanna be in All Better and Strong City now, now, NOW…dammit.

I get knocked down, but I get up again
You are never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You are never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
Chumbawamba – Tubthumping

Yeah, I’m Tubthumping this morning. I need to be more patient with myself //duh//, keep pushing but allow myself a few mini-hols from Struggleville.

Also too, hair would be nice. I’d really enjoy having a full head of bunny fur again.

This concludes today's kvetch-a-thon.