Its probably safe to say that most of us are practicing patience in our lives at one point today. Many of you are practicing patience with your children or spouses, while others are practicing patience with yourselves. I am in the latter group today.
On Friday, I awoke with anticipation of going in for surgery. I had waited three weeks from diagnosis of hernia to “fix the hernia” and I was ready. Per usual, I had hoped to get right onto the surgical calendar, get this thing taken care of, and already be slowly jogging by now. But three weeks passed quickly, and here I am in the early days of shuffling around and praying I don’t have to cough. Abdominal surgery of any degree is bigger that one might think. I think I went into this a little cocky since I had had a major abdominal surgery several years ago. I thought, “This is nothing!”. Apparently, it’s very similar. Who-da-thunk.
After two days on my couch, uncomfortably asking for help or asking for stuff, I’ve started moving around a bit. I’m sure I look like a little old lady right now, but to me, shuffling around my house feels like a long run today. I’m not too proud to take the pain medication they gave me, but am hoping to be on straight Tylenol very soon. Can you say “pain medication hangover”?? I’m also a little more independent and able to get my stuff a little easier today. It’s an unfamiliar feeling to need so much help when I’m normally so independent. But then again, that’s probably what got me in this situation in the first place (Scott’s voice ringing in my ears, “Please don’t pick up those bags of pellets”).
On the flipside, my family has been very patient with me. My husband is seriously a saint. He brought home all of my favorite goodies (probably to incent me to get running as quickly as possible!) for my recovery and has doted on me non-stop. He does much of the cooking anyway, but made sure I was eating and drinking and generally taking care of myself. He also catered to all things Bella. An almost 4 year old Labrador Retriever does not take kindly to quiet time. So, Scott’s been walking/running her and making sure she’s as nudge-free as possible for me.
I had a moment of frustration on Saturday morning, when I realized just how weak I was. Scott had taken Bella for a nice early morning walk and was returning home. Just as they got to our driveway, Scott heard our neighbor screaming and made a dash for her house. From my window, I could see Murphy (Bella’s German short haired pointer boyfriend) was attacking our neighbor's dog! Scott was working hard at pulling Murphy off of the old dog and helping our elderly neighbor up from having been thrown to the ground during the scuffle. There was nothing I could do! It's unknown why Murphy attacked, but he just wouldn’t let go. Scott knew getting between dogs in this type of situation was risky, but the old dog didn’t stand a chance without some help. Plus, our neighbor was likely to get bitten or hurt in some other way. Fortunately, Scott was successful in getting Murphy detached from his grip, helping our neighbor to her feet, and returning Murphy to his owner a few houses down. By now, I had finally reached the neighbor to make sure she was OK. Our neighbor and I were both grateful for Scott’s timing.
The soreness and weakness will dissipate, but until it does, I will do my best at practicing patience. The thing about patience is, there’s always another opportunity to practice around the corner. For example, as I stand here typing this entry, I’m keeping an eye on my running shoes kicked over in the corner. Ah, absence makes the
heart running grow fonder. I’ll be back soon Ms. Asics. I won’t profess to be fast when I return to you, but I do profess to practice patience while I try.