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I Found my Mojo…

Mar 29, 2011

Sadly, it resides in the section of intestine my surgeon just removed.

The scar depicted above looks a lot like mine, except that mine is not healing properly and it goes through my belly button (though my surgeon promised it would not).  Oh, and the scar above is on a a nice flat belly that belongs to a body builder and my scar… well, let’s just say it does not :-/

It’s been 4+ weeks of pain, of infections, of an unexpected heart problem that had me in the ICU, of one doctor visit after another with more and more tests and more medications added to my already long list: MedsMy body rebels if I try to do anything even minimally strenuous and I’m always tired.  Tired from doing nothing.

But the most frightening part of it all is that I feel smothered in apathy.  I can’t think of anything I want to do; there is nothing that interests me, nothing that jolts the sensor that resides somewhere inside of me and makes me excited about beginning a project or a new task.  I just feel nothing.

Sometimes, I feel sad or guilty, but I just can’t revive the old me… or find her.  I have been trying to write this blog post for over a week, but have about a half-dozen deleted drafts to show for my efforts.  My heart is just not in it.  I have always loved to write: I’ve been journaling for years – long before there was something called “blogging”.  But here I am writing, yet it brings me no joy.  It is too arduous to include the details I originally thought I should mention.  And my journal just continues to gather dust.

Yesterday was my birthday.  We have a tradition of going to a local pizzeria to celebrate, but I was still feeling too poorly to leave the house and I couldn’t really eat anything at the pizzeria, anyway, so I broke our family’s tradition.   I could see that my daughter was disappointed, as my birthday is a much more exciting event to her than it is to me.

I read something about post-surgical depression, but this feels more like post-surgical apathy.  At least for the sake of my family, I hope it passes soon.  I hope mojo is the sort of thing that regenerates when removed – like a starfish’s arm or a salamander’s tail.

I wonder if they endure an empty feeling while they wait for their appendages to grow back.

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5 comments

  1. Hi, Reading your blog made me remember how I felt after my bowel-resection I had about five years ago. Getting through surgery is a feat in itself, and the emotions that go along with it can be bad. I couldn’t sleep in the same bed as the Hubby, I was trapped in my room because of too many stairs in the house, and the meds to stop an infection just made me sick. No wonder I was depressed! I’m hoping that your “get up and go” comes back soon!
    Mo


    • Hey Debs,
      so sorry you’re going through this – though maybe in the long run it will turn out to be a good thing. As for the writing – sometimes you’ve got the muse and sometimes you haven’t. I went thru a whole not enjoying writing thing but it changed – eventually. Praying for you, honey.
      L,
      Annie


      • Hey, Annie…

        Yep, this was a very pragmatic decision – I am supposed to have a better quality of life due to this surgery. It’s just that I’m being short-sighted and can’t imagine it in the midst of post-surgery pain (and complications I didn’t anticipate).

        I guess the scariest thing about the writing (or NOT writing) is that, aside from my illnesses, my writing has always helped to define me and give me a sense of purpose (aside from my role as mother and wife). It was/is something that is all mine, you know? It’s been my faithful companion since I was a child.

        Heck, I already gave up smoking, and I don’t drink… I can’t give up writing, too!

        Thanks for caring and for your prayers. It means a lot to me.

        Love,
        Debi


    • Thanks, Maureen – It helps to know that someone else “lived to tell the tale”, as they say. Things are perking up a little as my mobility slowly increases and pain slowly decreases, but I guess I’m just the impatient type: 5.5 weeks is a long time to feel lousy.

      But 5.5 weeks means I’m closer to feeling like “me” again… and it should be a healthier version of me thanks to this surgery :-)

      Thanks for your encouraging words,
      Debi


  2. Not a reply – a message about replies:

    The “reply” feature does not work in my comments section and my replies post wherever they please.

    I’m thinking of changing my theme to one that actually does what it claims to do. But not today :-)



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