Prison Break

The good news is that I will probably be out of hospital on Saturday - which will be followed by an outpatient program here for six weeks or so. I am getting more and more mobile, and needing less and less pain relief medication - so that's something. Unfortunately, I seem to have loads of reasons to be miserable as well. I am frustrated that my progress is not quicker, I'm sick of being in a hospital, my control-freak self is hating not organising my home life, and in general I am feeling very low and depressed about it all. I have found myself in tears far more often than I care to admit. At the same time I look at the other patients here - many of whom need help to get out of bed, have had fairly major accidents, or are in here for several weeks/months- and I think I should quit my whining and thank my lucky stars that my pain and issues are minor in comparison. I almost feel guilty for feeling sorry for myself, especially when I know that feeling sorry for oneself is an entirely useless and pointless exercise.

When I think about summoning the energy required to start on the weight-loss road again, I cry. When I think about the pain I might endure if I DON'T summon that energy, I cry harder. The physiotherapist I saw today gave me a hard time - she said my frustration at being here was obvious. Ummm...yes, I'm frustrated - but I don't think the solution to that is to bury those feelings, is it? One of the facets of the program is visits with a psychologist - which I have yet to see, as I approach Day 4 of being here. Funny thing is that is the one person who I probably need to see the most! My frustration with my lack of progress is due, in part, to the seemingly endless amount of time it took to get transferred here, then the weekend waiting for therapy to begin, and then another day waiting where the staff finally admitted that they had forgotten about me. I've had one day of services (today) and then tomorrow is a public holiday. So of 7 days, I will have had access to 3 days of therapy. Who wouldn't be frustrated by that?! Being the scary overachiever girl, I need things to happen, and I need them to happen PRONTO. So I have short term frustration about my progress here, and long term frustration (fear?) about what the future holds for me.

Apparently the doctor also feels I need to wait a futher 3 weeks before returning to work. By the time three weeks are up, I'll be looking for the nearest loony bin to check myself into. While I don't want to rush things, I cannot seriously consider another 3 weeks of convelescence. My plan for now is to return to school next week (since that is short hours, low stress, and a lot of "down time") and then try one shift + school the following week, and then build up from there. Plus in amongst that have the day program here plus start with a physio/pilates program to build some core strength. At the moment it just feels like I am at the bottom of a very high mountain. The brightest spot in my days here has been when the kids come to visit and they make enough noise on the wards to wake the (almost) dead. What can I say, I guess I just don't make a very good hospital patient - something I would have thought was an asset but according to my physiotherapist, clearly is not.

This is a bit of a rambling, depressing post - completely out of character for me as a person and for this blog as a whole. I hope you'll forgive this minor break in the usual proceedings - I just don't feel like faking it.