So, this week I finally had my surgery to my shoulder after my accident at the beginning of the year on January 23rd.
It has been a tough year for me. A very mixed year. I’ve been in a lot of pain and I’ve been very unhappy at not being able to dance at all.
I’ve been loving working in year 1 and feeling more settled at my new school entering my second year there, but equally stressed about the effects of having to take so much time off with my injury and surgeries.
I’ve recently begun to dance again, not Salsa, if I’m honest I’m not sure I’m ever going to be strong enough for that again which breaks my heart, but Sally is teaching Kizomba locally again and as it’s danced in hold, I’ve been able to do it as it doesn’t put much stress on my shoulder. It’s made me so happy to be back and I’ve been in less pain.
But life is a rollercoaster...... and I don’t recal screaming to go faster!!
Now I’ve had my surgery I’m kind of back to square one, but hopefully with an end in sight.
I am only the 7th person to have had this surgery which involves a human donor piece of tissue being grafted to what’s left of my tendon and joining it back to the bone ( my tendon had torn clean off the bone ) and whilst they were in there they found I had a second tear which they were also able to repair. The surgeons at Royal National Orthapaedic Hospital Stanmore are amazing and yet again I’ve found myself in the best place for the surgery I’ve needed. It is a postcode lottery out there. I am lucky in many ways.
Today is day 4 and it’s been a wobbly sort of day. I’m feeling a bit tearful. I hate not being in control at the best of times but this is a real challenge. I am in a forward facing sling for 6 weeks, which are looming long ahead of me.
Ian has just moved in a week ago and has basically become quite literally my “right hand” man!
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. The shortest honeymoon period ever! ðŸ˜
He’s having to do everything for me. I tell you there is nothing more humbling and undignified than having to have someone wash you because you can’t do it yourself. He’s supposed to be my lover, not my Carer. I want him to look at me with desire in his eyes, not an eye roll because I’m such a nuisance. 😢
And I am very far from attractive, my hairs a mess, living in my PJs atm, no make up, feeling ugly, naked and vulnerable, helpless and hopeless and I’m struggling a bit with it all today.
I’ll get over it. I really have no choice.
Each day is a battle for minuscule successes. I am managing to feed myself and write shakily left handed. I managed a one handed weild of a duster earlier and one handedly emptied the dishwasher. I can make a cup of tea or coffee and managed to make a meal for myself this evening, thanks to my Mum for the food parcels, I had home made salmon quiche with new potatoes, broccoli and peas. I’ve been left home alone after a visit from my Betty boo and Jo, Luke’s at work and Ian has gone racing.
I’m walking a very fine line between trying to not be too stubborn while being as independent albeit limitedly as I can. At the same time I have to accept my limitations and accept help gracefully. And I am grateful, so grateful that Ian is once again my rock. Even through my darkest days he makes me laugh despite the tears. He is the kindest, strongest man I’ve ever known, my ⚓️ and I love him more than he can ever know. If we can survive this start of our life living together I think we can survive almost anything life throws at us. I guess that’s what being partners is all about. The rough with the smooth, taking it in turns to be the strong one for the other, the shoulder to lean on.
It’s going to be an interesting first Christmas together but I am looking forward to 2019 being a little smoother sailing ⛵️
