After nearly a week without pain meds and with the slowly-returning flow of "normal" life, I'm gobsmacked to look back and realize that I remember very very little of the last two weeks. Memories of the hospital stay are especially fuzzy; things since then are only slightly less fuzzed. It's especially odd since I could have sworn that I was pretty clear-headed and not affected by the medication.
Just goes to show -- something.
Which about sums up my thoughts right now.
When my primary care doctor told me on January 8 that the chest X-ray showed a mass in my lung, I blinked and said, "Okay." All these weeks and biopsies and tests and finally the surgery later, I feel like I'm still just blinking and saying, "Okay." None of this seems real -- not the cancer, not the recasting of the prognosis, nothing.
It's all been pretty much an out-of-body experience, watching myself march through the essential functions, disconnected from the actual experience.
I thought I might write a bit about this, but can't find the words to describe what it feels like to not feel what's been happening, so I'll simply end with the inadequate phrase, "It's weird."
It's a modern medical miracle. You should feel like you've been hit by a freight train...but instead you feel...well, sorta normal.
ReplyDeleteNot to worry. Your body knows what happened to it, even if your mind does not. It's probably better that way.
Do some Tai Chi & see....
Thanks, Valerie! Wise words. I'm slowly reentering tai chi, really looking forward to good weather so I can do it outside.
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