What Surgery Has Taught Me

It's been a long time, oh blog of mine. Nine weeks ago I had shoulder surgery and really couldn't type much until now. Even now, my hand and wrist hurt after a minute or so, but it beats typing with my left hand only.
So what have I been doing since my surgery? Learning a lot about pain, mostly. Oh, and getting pneumonia and then pleurisy. It's been fun - not. And I have been learning about myself:
1. I don't like pain and would probably tell bad guys or the FBI or whomever whatever they wanted to hear after about a minute of torture. Or maybe 15 seconds. Which isn't a good revelation because I always thought I'd be able to withstand pain and save the world by not breaking down and squealing.
2. Even though I don't like pain, I haven't shirked my physical therapy, going three times a week and doing my routine twice a day every day. Except for the day I was driven to the doctor to find out I had pneumonia after several days of dragging around and coughing like a 30 year chain-smoker. So, I still do my therapy even though it still hurts. I guess I'm not as much of a wimp as I thought.
3. I am also more of a wimp than I thought. As an athlete my whole life I am used to pain - the pain of pushing past physical barriers and continuing to run, cycle, lift. But I have learned that is a different kind of pain than forcing my shoulder into external rotation that feels like my arm is on the medieval wrack of the Inquisition. I complain about this pain and the constant pain that is with me - a lot. I am sorry that my spousal equivalent has to hear me groan and whimper. He asked me yesterday if I complained when he wasn't here and I had to admit that I do.
4. Nine weeks after surgery I am tired of all this physical therapy, the tightness, the forcing the arm to move in ways it doesn't like. Every day I wonder if I will stop doing my therapy moves although I know that I have months left.
5. Even though I wonder if I will stop, I don't.
6. I've learned not to compare myself with others who have had the same surgery because people are all different and each surgery is different even if it was on the same body part.
7. I fear that I will never be "normal" again. That I will feel weak and sloppy and fat and flabby for the rest of my life. That I will deteriorate physically until I slide down the slope of old age and become a shade of my former self, unable to do all the things I want to do - the things I could do before the surgery.
8. In short, I have learned that this is a test and I do not want to fail because I want my range of motion and my strength back. I want to ride my bike long distances. I want to lift weights. I want to pick up my younger grandchildren who are growing every day. I want to be myself again. And that thought is interesting because it shows me that I think of myself as a healthy, fit, strong, vital person. That is who I am. That is my identity and I want it back.
So I won't give up. I will keep pushing. I will do what my surgeon told me yesterday. I will persist.

Linda Pasten knows what I am talking about.

After Minor Surgery
By Linda Pastan


this is the dress rehearsal

when the body
like a constant lover
flirts for the first time
with faithlessness

when the body
like a passenger on a long journey
hears the conductor call out
the name
of the first stop

when the body
in all its fear and cunning
makes promises to me
it knows
it cannot keep