I’m 17 days PO today, and I went out with my bestie – for the first time since surgery, besides Wednesday’s post op appt – to get a few gifts. Two stores. On crutches, hip braced. Back home on the couch now, icing it up. Hammies hurt. Surgical site hurts. Incision hurts.
But – I am not afraid. I’m not worried that I undid the repair, or tore something new, or ruined something because I didn’t follow directions. I’m just sore. And I’m sore because 17 days ago, Mark Price cut open my leg, moved aside my glute muscles, went fishing for my hamstring handles, PULLED THEM UP MY LEG, SEWED CABLES THROUGH THEM, and TIED THEM ONTO THE POTTERY BARN ANCHOR SCREWS HE DRILLED INTO MY BUTT BONE. And then I saw fit to walk around the CVS looking for stocking stuffers with that butt. That is why I’m sore. And knowing *that* makes all the difference. My pain can just be pain, and not pain with fear and lack of self-compassion heaped upon it. Just pain. And pain passes.
Den of Positivity 