I knew better than to hope or to be happy.
For the first 2 and a half weeks since the surgeon reopened my wound and sewed it together in the hopes that it would heal properly this time, it was doing great. Last Monday, he had taken out every other stitch, and everything was holding fine. I was still careful, but I have and will miss so much while I'm recovering that I decided there were a couple of things I didn't want to miss so I took a chance and went. I went to the Improv Jam (the first time all of the improv groups in town got together - a really big deal) Wednesday night, the family dinner for Doug's dad's retirement, and ran some errands on Saturday. I tried to be as minimally active as I could every time.
Saturday was a bit of a big day since I was getting in and out of the car more and bending down a bit more. Still, when I went to bed, I checked and my wound still seemed fine. About 3 hours later, I got us to go to the bathroom. There was blood, and I was in pain. the ends of the wound had come apart. It felt like it may had been strained deeper inside, too. I went back to bed in a panic. I replayed everything I had done that day to see how I had messed everything up. I tried to remember any clues that maybe the wound was coming apart, but there was nothing. I finally managed to fall back asleep but could only dream of bleeding profusely all night.
When I woke up, I felt a little bit better (although the dreams had left me feeling that everything was worse than it was). I was less panicked, but was trying to be extra careful about how I sat. I had stayed at Doug's house the night before so when I got home about noon, I took a Lortab. I spent the day watching movies and taking more Lortab just to kinda numb out.
I really did think that the wound was going to stay together like it had been. I really thought it was going to heal perfectly and that this would be the answer. So far, what has opened isn't too deep, so I'm hoping that I'll still end up healing, but when the rest of my stitches come tomorrow, who knows?
If this doesn't work, I'll feel like a failure again. I'll feel like I let everyone down. I feel like they will blame me and say that I did too much (which I haven't) that kept it from healing.
I don't know why my body can't do this simple thing - something it normally does SO naturally - HEAL! I feel like everyone is invested because they are worried about me or rely on me to do things that I haven't while I've been trying to heal. If I don't heal, then what's this time been wasted on? And why is such a relatively small thing ruling and destroying my life so completely.
When I woke up to find my wound bleeding, I almost wanted to wake Doug up and apologize for letting him down. I know he would have looked at me like I was crazy and told me this isn't about him, it's about me healing. But still, I feel like I did. There's a reason I don't like to call my parents constantly with updates - I don't want to risk disappointing them when everything has gotten fucked up.
I don't understand why things like this can't go easily. Why I can't just have a procedure and be done with it instead of having it directly affect my life for the next 2 years until we find something else that can take it's place when (if) we finally solve that issue.
So, while I am doing everything I can think of and taking it as easy as I can for the next couple of weeks, I am also looking at the coming year in my head to figure out when I can check out of my life again for a month to have another surgery to try to heal this wound again. The doctor said that there is a back-up plan, but that procedure is a much bigger deal than this one. Great...
I want nothing more in my life right now to be able to carry on. To be able to focus my energy on my career, on my relationship, and on my community volunteer projects.
I just want to jump this damn hurdle instead of continually tripping.
