Driving to the hospital the morning of the surgery:
Chris: "Okay, so you're job is healing for the next week. Got it? No backseat parenting from the bed."
I realized this surgery that I have a pattern. Sitting here, staring at the wall and mindless TV, I've had time to recognize it. Having been through this three times already, I always go through the same thing after the surgery's over (quick, someone come save Chris!). Here we go:
Mel's Stages of Recovery
1. Compliant: I need help to do anything and I never bite the hand that feeds me...or holds the pain meds.
2. Awakening: I start to come out of the anesthesia fog. I'm still pretty sleepy but my appetite is coming back. I miss the kids, beg them to come talk to me and am extremely cautious about any movement I make.
3. Ambitious: I start to feel a little more lively. I can sit up for an extended period of time and my made up to-do list is swimming around in my head. I turn on the computer and get typing. I make lists and am insistent I am going to get them accomplished.
4. Overly-ambitious: I realize the anesthesia has robbed me of the slightest chance of an attention span, I'm exhausted from all this productivity and need a three hour nap.
5. Helpful: I've got a full nights sleep. I'm feeling more refreshed. I feel like I can do little things to help out my husband such as give him a break to go pee by himself and check his email. The kids and I laugh and chat. Thirty minutes later I need a two hour nap (progress from three).
6. Sneaky: My husband showers the kids and then jumps in to take one of his own. Feeling like I have been doing NOTHING but lay around for days, I quietly get up and go out to the kitchen. I throw a few dishes in the dishwasher and decide I could start dinner for the hubs. I don't hear the shower stop in time to get back to my bed and act innocent. I hear the dreaded, "What do you think you are doing?" Then he banishes me back to the bed. I need a quick nap to refresh from my failed mission.
7. Impatient: I end up crying that I am not healing quickly enough and watch my ever-so-patient husband sit on the bedside and appease me. He reminds me it's only been four days and then gives me props for "mostly" staying in bed and not trying to do too much.
8. Feeling Human: (I am here) It being my last day with my husband at home before he returns to work, I decide I should join my family out in the kitchen and do an activity with them. Turns out my husband has been busy training his minions on what to do when they see me up and around. I don't stand a chance. Back to bed I go.
9. Independence: Tomorrow I am home alone with the kids. Thank goodness for their flexibility. I am sure to get multiple texts from Chris reminding me that is okay if the kids sit with me on the couch and have a movie day. We don't usually hang in front of the TV for long, so I'm sure both of them will be on board with this plan of 'zombify-ing" themselves with me. One day won't rot their brains, right?
Thanks for all your hard work this week, Chris.