It's been eight months. Eight months since my shoulder surgery. It's funny how such a small thing can totally throw your life off track. It was my tenth surgery. Yep. The big number 10. You would think I would be better at it by now.
In the beginning it was like this.....
I was supposed to be in physical therapy for 2-3 months. But because I am special I was in remedial physical therapy for a little over 5 months. The most painful part was paying for it.
And here I am, eight months later. I can do most things, although I still find myself using my left arm more than my right. Old habits die hard.....it was 17 years between the time I dislocated it and the surgery so I really got used to doing things the south paw way. I think it probably made it easier to be in a sling since I was so used to doing things with my left hand. Writing was a struggle.
Speaking of writing....I only got half of my thank you notes written. I've gone back and forth on which is worse...to be in the half that doesn't get a thank you note or get a thank you note six months late? I've asked around but still haven't written the rest of those stupid notes. Which leads me to feel like I need to bring the thank you note with some sort of treat. But I'd have to make the treat first. Dang it! It's a vicious cycle!
Most days I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of to do lists and dirty dishes, but doesn't everyone? I think I'm as back to normal I ever am. I can pick up my Babs. At least for now. I can do everything I used to do and so much more. I'm still hesitant to vacuum. Obviously. And it's been recommended that I not use a garden tiller. Probably a good call.
I don't go in for physical therapy anymore. I'm supposed to do it all at home now which is good and bad. The good part is that home physical therapy is free. The bad part is I keep forgetting. Having an appointment looming before me and knowing I would be asked how I did on my exercises really kept me focused. Now I just....forget. Like all the other things I forget everyday. Plus I miss the people I used to visit with when I would go in for physical therapy. I know that sounds crazy, but they were fun. I got to chat with grown ups! I looked forward to seeing them (I know...pathetic) and I think they liked visiting with me. It's nice to go somewhere and have people happy to see you.
But the best part is that now, eight months later, my girls hardly ever ask if my shoulder is hurting or if I'm able to do what they need me to do. They don't even think about it anymore. I'm back to being mom who can take care of everything. And that is what makes it all worth it.