The past three days have probably been the best days I've had in over 8 months.
I have stood without feeling like my hips might break in half. I haven't felt that excruciating, gnawing, constant pain down the front of my thighs. I've walked -more slowly than I'd have liked, but without constant agony.
My back hurts, and I have to stop and remind myself I had major spinal surgery just over 5 weeks ago. But this pain? Seems almost normal. Not to say it doesn't hurt, but it's telling me that the choice I made, the one I tried everything in my power to not have to make, the only choice I could make in the end, was without a doubt the right choice. It is, for the most part, bearable.
Mother Nature has been flooding us with humidity, which is never a good thing for a bad back. In a cruel twist, she yanked our beautiful spring weather without warning and this morning brought cool, rainy, windy, stay under a cozy blanket and watch Lifetime movies (I can't believe I even wrote that - bed rest and recovery will weaken even the strongest constitution).
I didn't give in to Mother Nature. Not today, not yesterday, or even the day before. I moved. I spent time with people I love. I did things I enjoy. I felt normal.
While I wouldn't change a thing, and will continue to strive for these days that are helping make me feel like I'm finally returning to the land of the living, I'm acutely aware that although there is a need to challenge and push myself, I also need to acknowledge the delicate balance that comes with healing. I'm trying so hard to find where that balance falls on my healing journey, and am finding that it is far from an easy ctask.
Sometimes a good thing really can be a little too much of a good thing. Sometimes we need our pain to nag us a little to remind us to slow down. Not to stop, but to be kind to ourselves.
Tomorrow, I plan on listening to what my body is telling me: I need some rest. So the plan? Nothing at all. Tomorrow will be time for cozy blankets and family snuggles. For enjoying just being us, with nowhere we need to be or any particular obligations. Maybe an "outing" as I've come to call them, and maybe not leaving the house at all.
But most importantly, listening. Because listening means more wonderful days ahead. More and more days of "normal."
As for the things that really helped make these past three days extra special? More on that soon. Maybe tomorrow? Then again, who knows. It will keep, as will my smile.