Over doing it

There's nothing I hate so much as laying about. (Time spent on a cruise ship doesn't count, of course. The whole point of a vacation is to lay about, but there's not even a shadow of a palm tree here in wintry New England.) Right now, I'm recovering from colon cancer surgery and much as I hate to admit it, I can't have business as usual. The procedure was supposed to be laproscopic, but my incision is over 8 inches long, so evidently my cute surgeon had to alter his gameplan. I was hoping for a quick recovery, but it looks like it'll be several weeks before I'm doing crunches. Just going out to eat at the Union Oyster Grill yesterday did me in. The walking wasn't so bad, but there were lots of steps going down and up into Boston's T. The stairs set me back several days.

Until now, I would have said I have a high pain tolerance. I did natural childbirth for both my girls without a whimper. I really expected to bounce right back from this procedure. But even the oxycodone isn't cutting my post-operative pain and I hate to take too much of it anyway for fear of becoming dependent.

My DH says I have "control issues" and I'm afraid he's right. Pain takes away my choices. I'd hoped to go to church this morning, but I couldn't squirm through the service on those hard pews. This afternoon, my daughters would love to go shopping to spend their Christmas money, and even though I am the Anti-Shopper, I would love to go just to share the time with them. I'm afraid all I'm good for is holding down the couch right now. And being a dog magnet.

Susie and Mack (see picture above--yes there really are two dogs there. Little black Susie is blending in with the recliner on my left side) have made it their business to snuggle with me almost constantly. I suspect my dogs are sensitive to my pain and are trying to relieve it in the only way they can.

Sorry to whine. I just need to suck it up and give myself permission to vegetate while I heal. Maybe I can imagine a palm tree . . .