Tuesday, February 28, 2012

One month after surgery #7.

In the late morning, I woke up, like usual these days.
Robert made me a lovely breakfast before he left for work at 12.
An hour later, I started feeling so  l o n e l y  and STUCK. I am sick of crutches and pain.
I called my husband:
"I can't take this anymore! I can't walk! I have had seven surgeries, and I.can't.walk. It hurts too much, I have tried. I CAN'T BE THE ONE WHO HAD SEVEN SURGERIES! (loud sobbing). I~ need~ to~ walk!"

I am recovering from seven surgeries over 4 +1/2 year time period, while my four children grow up. Do you remember that Azriel was -a year and a half- when I got NF? Shifra was 4, Ya'akov 7, Dov 8. Soooo small. Now they are that much older, and quite a bit more independent. The independence which came from having an ima sick a lot, and an abba working his you-know-what off for this family. House keys were handed out early. They learned how to cook eggs, porridge, hamburgers, hotdogs (Wazi's personal favorite), pasta, chop a perfect salad, and much, much more. Often a big kid read to a littler kid at bedtime.
But you know what? They're good. I mean that in the sense of they are solid. They are happy, as well. Everyone grows up with their own story of how things were at home.
This is theirs.

Robert told me, yesterday morning on that phone conversation with which I started writing this entry, that it's fine to have a good cry about our situation, it is kind of insane when you look at it. He told me about the time recently that he also had a cry about it. Telling the story sometimes can bring up how crazy our lives have been, and sometimes it's just too much to contain.
My husband continued on, starting to talk about the GOOD things in our life. If I start with all that's GOOD, there is no end to what I can say. Honestly. As much as I can cry retelling my story to a new person, I can also cry recalling the amazing blessings we have.

Yesterday it turned out that there was *nobody* to pick up my daughter from school. We tried the back-ups of the back-ups. Nobody was available at that moment. She was coming home with a friend, actually, as well. Robert and the friend's mother decided they'd have to send a cab to bring the girls from school to our house.
When Robert told me this, I was really upset! I am very unsettled about having my daughter (who's 9) get into a cab with a stranger. Big red flags go off for me.
So... I did the only thing any decent mother would do, surgery or not...

I got my car key, and strung it on my finger while I crutched to the car.
Getting in was a challenge, I knew it would be.
Get crutch #1 into car, over to passenger seat.
Use crutch #2 to lean on while trying to sit down into the car seat. 
Ouch. Low seat.
OK, both feet are still on pavement, torso sitting in car.
Pass other crutch over to passenger's seat.
Swing right foot into car, which then leaves left hip in a bad position. Ouch.
Gingerly bring left foot into car with help from both hands cradling thigh.
grunt and say aie yai yai!

Breathe deep, put on seat belt, try to remember code after not driving for almost a month,
Go slowly but surely to pick up Shifra and her friend.

Boy, was SHE surprised to see me!!! She came running over with her most animated expression, pink backpack on wheels trailing behind her.

It was worth it.
It's just that now I have to juggle when I should/can get in and drive, and when to play it safe. Getting and out are not very compatible with trying to avoid painful situations at this time. Tonight I am in markedly more pain in the joint itself.

Tomorrow I have Dr Z (we have lots to talk about. My nerve pain... my nerve pain has gotten worse. I don't think my liver can tolerate more Lyrica, but IT HELPS.), then a bit later my first trip to physiotherapy at the institute here in Be'er Sheva, instead of the lovely lady I had coming to my house for the past few weeks.
I have rides and cabs worked out for all of it thank Gd.

On the bright side, I can so *totally* bend down to pick up a crutch when it falls. No more acrobatics to compensate for not being allowed to bend at the hip. I can bend to put socks on, also. I rock. :-)


  1. Frustration is a normal part of recovery. I'm glad you could get in the car and go but remember, it would not be a sign of failure to allow the girls to ride in a cab. Uncomfortable? Yes. Failure? No.

    I say do not push too hard. It is not a good thing. The normal two steps forward, one step back but I would not plan on driving until you know you can get in and out without extreme pain. As the PT advances, I'm guessing you will be able to tell when you can do more.

  2. You do rock! And who would have thought you'd be proud that you can put on socks!! LOL This is too much for one family, and yet your family is thriving and happy, and most importantly, still have you in their lives. I always think about how you might not have been here, and yet G*d kept you here. Painful times, difficult, trying, but still, the joy of your family being intact.


  3. Oh hon!
    I am listening in!
    I hear two voices - one being grateful for what you have and the other confused and upset with the realization of the hard years behind you. Our years were very different, but I know that feeling.

    Just FYI - my kids started taking cabs at age 9. I talked a lot about how to behave, how to run away, called to ask the license number, talked to them on the cell phone the whole time. Stuff like that. They survived.

    I love you!

    1. Thanks for your letter, darlin.
      You are right about the two voices.
      I guess anyone who has experienced great loss but has healthy kids and a great husband may have those voices, like you as well. Hmmmm. I always think of my situation as the secret insanity that new people I meet (if I am walking without crutches) don't yet know, you know?

      So, about cabs... I am still not comfortable with Shifra taking one. The boys can, and have been for a while, but Shifra never has alone. I will have to talk to her, I know. But, she has no cell phone, and as of yet we are not doing kids-with-cell-phones yet (nobody does), but it does seem easiest that way.
      Cell phones-- you didn't have to replace lost ones and repair them all the time when you gave them at a young age (9)?

      love you!

  4. Of course it's not that simple. And you are making great progress. Consider reviewing each day before going to sleep and identifying three things for which you are grateful.

  5. read with a smile your description of getting into the car and picking up your daughter! thats a true mom!! with all the pain we protect our little ones. you are on the road to good health! all the frustration is so understandable and healthy also! day by day, are the differences! you are in our tefillot daily!. rochel.