Five weeks on post-surgery

Falmouth from Flushing...
Falmouth from Flushing Bowling Green in the week; eating up the steps…

At some point things change. I’m trying to pinpoint it, but the moment evades me. I feel like I’m emerging, growing in strength and purpose. I realise that I’ve forgotten to take pain killers. That’s a good sign, from dividing the day up into the mental drugs trolley. I ditched the Tramadol a couple of weeks ago. Naproxem and its bed-fellow Omeprazole cast off yesterday, leaving an on-off relationship with paracetamol. I don’t wake up every time I move in bed, I don’t wake with the feeling of the tightly bound corset. If I sit too long at the dining room table, and steep hills, those are the reminders now. No longer the feeling of being kicked in the ribs by a horse, more like a large dog. I sneezed for the first time yesterday, and it didn’t rip apart my lung, as I feared. Hurt a bit though. The worst is still yawning. You can halt a sneeze, so I’ve learned, but stopping a yawn is impossible. That burns at the bottom of the lung. Must-do-better-on-deep-breathing.

This week I also hit 10,000 steps for the first time since wearing the MisfitShine again. It was good to see it twinkling at me. Some of it was even classed as ‘vigorous’. I slept well that night.

Perhaps that was the change. Properly tired. Properly sleeping. More oxygen passing through my body because of the activity, making the lung work, making me rest better. A kind of natural painkiller. Perhaps it’s no coincidence that I am also drinking more water. I read somewhere that your lungs have a high water component. Makes sense to refresh those cells as much as possible.

It is like those early spring days, when you realise that you’ve walked out without a coat. The sun feels warm, and you know that the dark days of winter are at last behind you.

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