this is my story, and I'm sticking to it

 

~taken on my walk today~

This is my story, and I'm sticking to it.

I am now almost six weeks post-op right total knee replacement. As a physician, I thought I knew what to expect going into this, but apparently I didn't. I expected pain but I didn't expect it to be excruciating. I didn't anticipate the exhaustion I felt. No one warned me about the "brain fog" I experienced that prevented me from reading, or writing, or meditating during my down-time.

I was curious to know what recovery was like for others so I joined an on-line support and recovery group:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/700714269949595/

There I was met with an out pouring of stories! 

The problem was that many of the stories people shared were worrisome. Some of them were still in severe pain months after surgery. They weren't able to sleep. They never regained their range of motion or strength. Some of them developed secondary infections. Many of them regretted their decision...not what I was hoping to hear.

"Write hard and clear

about what hurts."

~Ernest Hemingway~

Some of them were, however, encouraging. Some people described how they sailed through surgery and recovery. They were sleeping well. They were driving after a few weeks and back to work in three months. They were riding their bikes or had returned to the gym...exactly what I needed to hear. Except that I wasn't up to any of that early on. So, of course, I started to doubt myself. I wondered if I should be trying harder. Pushing through. I wondered if I'd made the wrong decision, myself.

What should have been encouraging made me feel just a tiny bit jealous. When all I could do was complain, it felt like they were bragging about their success. Some of them probably were, but a few of them were kind enough to offer a little disclaimer: "I may sound like I'm bragging, but I'm not. This is hard. I just want you to know that things do get better. You can do this!"

And then, the day arrived when I turned the proverbial corner...from pain, frustration, and discouragement to healing and hope. Voila!

"Proceed as if success

is inevitable."

~Author Unknown~

So, now I have virtually no pain. Last week I was cleared to start driving. This week, I was discharged from physical therapy to a home exercise program. I'm walking an hour almost every day. Four weeks ago I would have told you this would never be possible.

The point is that, when we share our stories, they may be received in ways we don't intend. Something that strikes us as funny may touch a tender spot that brings a reader to tears. Our success may make someone else feel like a failure. When we write to comfort or encourage the reader, we may accentuate his sense of loss, frustration, or shame. 

This is where a disclaimer may serve us well as writers. Instead of presenting ourselves as the undisputed expert on the topic, the final voice of authority, it may be more inviting to begin with, "This is how it was for me. Your experience may be different." Or, "This is how I see it. You may not agree." Or, "This is what I believe in. You may not." This approach embraces universal truth, which is what we should strive for. It allows us to share our story while acknowledging the legitimacy of our readers' version of their own experience, or observation, or perspective.

"The wound is where

the light enters you."

~Rumi~

We are all invited to share our stories, happy or sad. We are encouraged to tell our tales of victory and defeat. We can offer words of encouragement or despair. Everyone's story is different...and everyone hears it differently. Simply remember this:

"One day you will tell the story

of how you overcame what you went through

and it will be someone else's survival guide."

~Brene Brown~

jan

the will to live--or not

 

Two friends of mine have cancer. The prognosis for both of them is grim because their tumors are so difficult to treat.

One is a woman who has been in treatment for six or seven years now, proceeding from one experimental protocol to another in a futile effort to halt the spread of her tumor. After every course of chemotherapy, she suffers severe side effects, often requiring hospitalization to manage pain and dehydration. Most of us would have given up by now, but her will to live is fierce. Unyielding. Defiant. It is fueled by two things: love for her family, and hope (aka faith). Well, maybe three things. There's always heartache. The pain a mother suffers when her children's hearts break for her. Knowing she won't be there for them when they long for her comfort, strength, support, and wisdom. For her love. She will do anything to beat this disease.

"Love is the ultimate expression 

of the will to live."

~Tom Wolfe~

My other friend was healthy until, all of a sudden, he wasn't. The risk factors for his cancer included smoking and drinking, but he had never smoked, and he didn't drink...so, go figure. Of course he would have preferred life to continue as it always had. Not like this. His will to go on was dampened not only by the side effects of treatment, but by his inability to care for his family. The fact that he needed help for the first time ever. That he felt like a useless burden. It caused him to lose hope. He wanted to die.

"Hope is the last thing

ever lost."

~Italian Proverb~

It is hard to know how to support a person who clings desperately to hope when, in truth, there really is none...just as it is hard to encourage the patient who has already given up. Platitudes and cliches offer no real wisdom or comfort. No one wants to hear, "God never gives us more than we can handle," or "God must have something better in store for you," when all they can see is suffering and death.

What has been shown to be helpful, though, is the simple act of storytelling. Sharing favorite memories. Reminiscing about the times you enjoyed together. Exploring what kept you connected in good times, and what sustains your friendship now. It has the power to generate laughter, as well as to release tears. If not to heal, at least to sustain.

Storytelling helps because it celebrates your presence. Your attention. Your engagement. You have not abandoned your friend, or if you're a healthcare provider, your patient, at the most difficult point in his life.

Even your quiet presence can be comforting. It suggests embracing with ease what might otherwise feel like an awkward silence. Processing grief with equanimity. Reflecting upon what (you hope) comes next. All the thoughts that may never find their way into words.

"Dancing, singing, storytelling,

and silence

are the four healing salves."

~Gabrielle Roth~

The person who has a strong will to live will take comfort, find encouragement, and embrace hope because of your words. In your peaceful presence. The one who has given up may be inspired to hang on a little longer. I like to remind my friend that they may discover the cure for his cancer tomorrow.

"We are all just walking 

each other home."

~Ram Dass~

jan

this might hurt a bit

True Story:

I am currently in the process of welcoming a brand new right knee into my life. She was a bit reluctant at first, but we're getting along better now. She's complaining less. I'm sleeping better. Together, we're making plans for the future. 

I've undergone major surgery before, so I knew what to expect going into this...or so I thought. I was prepared to be exposed (literally) as an ordinary human being. I knew there would be pain, swelling, stiffness, and frustration. Even regrets. I told her we had to go to physical therapy even though all that bending and stretching would hurt. I promised that when she is ready, I'll take her for long walks on the beach and in the woods. We'll sit cross-legged together in meditation.  

She asked me to be patient with her. She reminded me that healing takes time. You can't rush it, but you can hamper it if you don't do your exercises...or if you're impatient and push yourself too hard, too soon. What you thought would take five days may take five weeks, and what you thought would take five weeks can take five months. Ho-hum.

"Your body's ability to heal

is greater than anyone has permitted you

to believe."

~various attributions~

So we agreed on a few books we would read while we wait. What shows we might enjoy on TV. What writing projects we could work on. She surrendered to the ice packs while I turned the heat up a bit.

Total knee replacement is a common procedure these days, but that doesn't make it a quick and easy fix. Recovery has its ups and downs. Its frustrations and consolations. Its victories and defeats. 

If you are facing major surgery, here is my advice to you:

• Learn all you can about what you can expect from it. Believe about half of what you are told.
• Do as much as possible to prepare yourself physically and emotionally for it ahead of time. I forced myself to exercise for months before my surgery to strengthen my legs for what was to come, and they love me for it now.
• Enroll a couple of sympathetic advocates to encourage and support you. That way, when they ask you how you're doing you can lie shamelessly, "I'm doing fine...", and that will make them feel better, too.
• Don't wait until your pain is unbearable before you take something for it. Take it, according to directions, before you really need it. It's harder to get ahead of pain than it is to prevent it.
• Patience and self-care promote healing.

"Self-care is a divine responsibility."

~Danielle LaPorte~

For anyone out there who is dealing with a joint replacement, I would like to offer a huge thumb's up, a full-out drum roll, a trumpet fanfare, and resounding applause! You have earned it!

"Take care of your body.

It's the only place you have to live."

~Jim Rohn~

jan