how am i doing???

i have started a blog and saved it to drafts about 3 times. they have started with gratitude for the numerous people who have been in and out of the house taking care of me and my family. it started with the day by day, minute by minute account of what i've been doing. and may have had a word or two of how i've been doing. they're long, they're boring, and even i have a hard time rereading what i've just written. i'm boggling my "how am i doing?" with everything else going on just to ignore how i am doing.

so, how am i doing? if i'm being honest, i'm having a hard time. i've stayed in bed more than i've gotten up. i've listened to more of bob's conference calls than i have ever cared to. i've (debbie) have washed the sheets more times than i can count so the room doesn't stink. and to top it all off, i haven't pooped in over a week (sorry, some things i have no inhibitions about). i had in my mind that this recovery was going to be like the c-section recovery with the twins. you know, where i came home after day 5 and gutted and scrubbed the entire refrigerator. where i ran up the stairs when bob screamed because bobby had gone potty on the toilet (or, as i thought, had drowned in the tub because of how bob screamed). or, how i had gone to church the next morning wearing regular clothes, back to my regular size, skin more pale, but with a smile nonetheless. but, this recovery has been nothing NOTHING like that.

i hurt. all the time. if i eat too much, i hurt. if i don't eat enough, i hurt. i'm nauseous ALL OF THE TIME. my right foot is still numb (which i will be going to a neurologist for) so i limp, everywhere. i still can't go down the stairs normally - i have to hold the rail on one side and the grasp the wall on the other. i can't sit on the couch for more than an hour without my back or stomach hurting. i still can't completely shower because my cathetar hole (yes, hole) in my stomach is still open and i'm scared to get it wet. so i sit in a chair with a towel covering my stomach trying to keep the area dry. i have a toilet attachment that raises my toilet a good 4 inches so i don't bend down. and, i have my trusty wheels. a metallic red walker with a seat attached that grandma and grandpa johnson used during their ailing days. yep, those wheels are mine now. i'm 29 years old.

there is a lot of time that i am depressed. because i can't change a diaper, i can't make lunch, i can't catch my kids sliding down the slide, and i just have a hard time finding a reason to smile. i am a glass is half empty kind of person. woe is me. and i have every reason to feel like that right now.

but please ignore the impression that i am huddled in the corner, in a ball, crying all of the time. when i have a good day, i have a really good day. and it's usually after the sullivan girls have been here for a few hours, making me laugh at their one liners. or like now, where bob is on a call and i am here on the computer, and matty opens the door and keeps saying, "hiiii" in his fluctuating high pitched voice until someone responds (in which bob has to explain to the person on the phone why a little person is screaming in the background). or when i actually make it downstairs to find debbie going back and forth between the laker and angels game to find out she actually really likes sports even when dan's not around. or especially when i'm having a terrible, horrible self-pity day, and my husband, instead of being the soft, gentle, and supportive husband that he has been about 95% of the time, turns into the whip-cracking, pill-enforcing, no holds barred drill sergeant screaming at me, "you can do it!" "quit your whining." and "hurry up, you're taking all day."

i know during this week, i have so much to be grateful for. for debbie staying this entire week and wearing herself ragged and tired from taking care of the kiddos all day. for the sullivan girls coming and hanging out in and around my bed, making me laugh. for the flowers and gifts and facebook messages that make me smile.

i know if i got out of bed first, it would make it easier. i know this. if i beat my thoughts of "woe is me" in waking up in the morning, i know i would feel better. but i don't even open my eyes. i'm awakened by the pain. and i moan. and i think, here goes another day...