One of the major things concerning me right now (aside from the obvious one of being freshly operated on), is how I am handling this surgery and recovery with my boys watching.
Both of my boys inherited my MHE genes. The last thing I want to do is scare them this early on. So, I try to hide my pain. Well, to a degree. I will tell them, mommy hurts boys. We need to be careful and not jump on mommy, because I don’t want them to accidently throw their weight on my sore surgery sites. Not only would that hurt, but I am sure I wouldn’t be able to hide that pain face from them.
I’ve caught Nolan a few times watching me as I move about in my walker. Watching for any signs to see if I’m hurting more than I let on. Worry lining his small little features. That stings. I tell him I am okay, just sore, and he says “I hope you feel much better tomorrow, Mommy.”
I’ve always tried to stay calm and brave when faced with surgeries. After all, it’s something that I really have no say in. Either I get the surgeries, recover and possibly move better or I don’t have them and I struggle with dealing with the daily unbearable pain. It’s always worse when I don’t have the surgery. Example, I had major issues with my ankle when I was 16. My mobility was deteriorating, and when I went in for the surgery, the mobility had deteriorated 90% in the few weeks it took to get the surgery date. Had I not had the surgery, I’m sure my mobility would have suffered greatly.
And so, I get the surgeries. I try to deal with the pain and anxiety. It is so anxiety inducing, waiting for your surgery to begin. The smells of the hospital, the knowledge that you’ll be knocked unconcious for several hours, only to have it feel like several minutes, waking up completely disoriented…even thinking about it dries my mouth out with fear.
But I press on, because this is all a part of my life. And maybe one day…a part of my boys’ lives. Although it pains me to say that, although I fear it. It’s the last thing I want for them…to know the fear of surgeries and pain…but I want them to be as mobile as they possibly can be.
Nolan watched my dressing get changed yesterday. He couldn’t believe there were actual staples in my shoulder. “Oh mommy,” he kept saying, sympatheticly. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes baby, it does hurt a little…”
“But why did you have a surgery then?”
“To take the bad bones out.”