Sometimes recovery doesn't look the way you thought it would.
Sometimes it doesn't mean sitting for extended periods of time with cups of tea and many books, because you're too busy shifting and trying to find a position that's actually comfortable to read, and your tea goes cold in its mug.
Sometimes you don't get to recover quickly through great amounts of sleep, because the pain and discomfort won't quieten down enough for you to even lie down, and you end up spending parts of your recovery nights in the cool glow of your television screen.
Yes, sometimes this happens. And yet you cope, because you are healing. And even if each day starts anew and you still aren't able to walk much past the shuffling step of before, you still notice your mind coming back to itself, a rejuvenation of a specific part of your body that was suffering before, or an ability to shuffle a little bit further than yesterday.
You remind yourself to take it slow and give yourself space to heal, even as you blissfully think about being able to make food for yourself again, or go shopping, or even throw the ball for your sweet puppy.
I guess what I'm trying to say is: I'm trying to continue to surrender to my need to heal, and to all the pain and discomfort related to that. But, boy, am I excited about the prospect of walking unaided again.
Love to all who read.