I'm not typing much lately. Rather I am one-finger-pecking out messages on my phone in between hitting it on the pillow to get it to work correctly; or I am a bit hunched close to the key board in an effort to keep my arm *still* as my surgeon wishes, but more importantly, to NOT anger the "dangling-severed-nerve-endings" in that arm at all costs.
It's almost like a new job - I'm learning quickly as I go. Putting on a T-shirt? NO! angry nerves shout 'do not lift your arm in that manner'!! Tying my shoes? NO! do not stretch your arm out, down and forward at the same time!! Sitting in the car for long periods of time when you forgot your arm pillow? Quick rapid fire shocks make you look for anything, anything to pile under your elbow.
And trust me, all the new commands have exclamation points after them........
It feels like a hammered, long knife that was left in the fire until it was red-hot has been thrust into my flesh. My brain is a little slow to start understanding that these nerves were cut, and therefore are not giving reliable information. My brain is not grasping the fact that some flesh is not there any longer, some muscle was cut and is healing, and some nerve endings just need to calm down a little bit.
My brain and nerves are so not getting it, that if I anger the nerves more than once or twice, they send the surrounding muscles into spasms. And shake unembarrassedly the arm, the hand, the fingers.
Don't hug me, don't touch that arm, don't bump into me. And if you see me accidentally bump into a wall - please cover your ears so you don't hear me sin.
Interestingly, Scott had a similar surgery right after he was born - he was born with a tumor under his arm. The surgeon at that time took a "generous" amount of tissue and muscle in that area, and he has had some of the same sensations all of his life. That's why he shoots a basketball the way he does - he's protecting that armpit area that has damaged and severed nerve endings still firing incorrectly in it.
He has always been somewhat protective of that area, but watching him play sports, you would never guess.
So we are quite a pair. But I have the most understanding ear.
It seems like I have good days and bad days, and slowly the good days are becoming more numerous. Monday, we went to Columbus to have my last drain pulled, then stopped at Heidi's to watch Addy show off her new biking skills, and I cannot remember right now what else we did. But we got home around 4pm and I was wiped out for the next 30 hours.
I spent a lot of time on the couch watching NAT GEO's Nazi Hunters. I kept falling asleep and so I have no idea how nasty old Eichman ended up, or Stangl, etc.
I had to ask Scott. Sigh.
But watching Addy-girl ride that bike was something awesome. Wes sent us a short video of her "first flight" and all you could see was a little blonde head pedaling around a green soccer field at a park near their home.
With a big wistful frown, she had just told me the week before that "she didn't know if she could ever take off her training wheels" - and then she did.
So I'm thinking if Addy-girl can take off her training wheels and learn to ride a bike in a park area with other folks around watching - if she is that brave and "hard-trying" and ends up riding around a green soccer field, then I can put my feet on the ground in the parking lot in a few weeks and walk into a building and go up to the fourth floor and start chemo again.
I'm not sure if my smile will be as big as hers, but I keep watching that little video and think I can.
***
My "anonymous-gifter-and-fabulous-words-sender" sent something a couple of weeks ago - it's a picture of a mountain climber on top of a very high mountain and they wrote "When you get to the top of the mountain, keep climbing!" I liked it then, but it is now taped to the treadmill after I heard the dreaded "chemo starts again" sentence. I hit the top of the mountain, and I realize I need to keep climbing.
It's not going to be easy, but I'm told the view when I get there is pretty astounding.
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