Da Count-Second Chances

This may ramble a bit.

I was all set to use today's count to give thanks for how far I've come since last April 15. And truly, I am very grateful for that. In some ways I think I have exceeded the expectation of the doctor (actually functionality), in other ways I have not come as far as they hoped (pain level). Regardless, I am still very thankful that if anyone was going to get hurt, it was me, not one of my kids (no mother wants to see her children injured so badly) or Mr. Lime (we'd have been screwed if he'd missed so much work). That I wasn't paralyzed, killed, or left a vegetable (given I landed inches away from a boulder that would have dashed my brains or broken a back or neck quite effectively) is a major thing to count.

My family and friends and so many of you provided support in so many ways. I had amazing therapists who made hard and painful work as pleasant as it could be and always greeted me with a smile. As a result, most of the modifications I still make to do what needs doing are pretty small, or at least natural to me now. Janita (for the newcomers here, that's the name for my left arm/wrist/hand) is here to stay but she and I are working together cooperatively most of the time.

Last week though, I sat here staring at my guitar and boohooing a continuing inability to play it. I spoke with Andy about it and I have to give him a big thanks for some really practical suggestions and a boatload of concrete steps that will hopefully get me back into it. I need to thank him for a ray of hope shed on a longtime dream that I thought might need to be buried. Really....thank you, Andy. Another thing to add to the count.

So then this week I was a completely miserable human being. I was angry, frustrated, prone to outbursts with little provocation. Why? I made it through Easter without any broken bones. I saw my family and had a terrific time. This Sunday will be the official one year mark and I've already listed all the other things I am counting. Life is groovy. Well, Monday I completely messed up my back. I spent most of the week flattened, intimate with an icepack, unable to do much of anything, including sleeping.

I can honestly say that during the last year with Janita, although the initial accident and immediate aftermath was the most painful thing I've ever felt in my life (and that includes a c-sec with failed anesthesia) bar none and required a very long rehabilitation. I can count on one hand the hours I spent feeling really down about it. My back is a different story. I screw that up and I go immediately into misery. I herniated a disk 3 years ago and they threatened me with scalpels and such. It's been 14 months since I had such a bad flare-up as this one. That's actually a record length of time so I need to count that I didn't have to contend with it during the time I needed to really focus on Janita.

Nonetheless, I've been a real nasty person to live with this week. It bothers me that I've been this way. I hate that my gut reaction in this situation (not normally in others) is worry (oh hell, are they gonna decide THIS is the time to carve into me?), that I snap at everyone around me, and that I wind up laying around feeling useless and wondering how long I will be incapacitated. Last night I had an epic wig out on the girls that I am certainly not proud of at all. They forgave me and we wound up having a pleasant evening in the end. So I'd better count forgiveness too this week.

UPDATE: I thanked Andy for the guitar advice but I forgot to specifically thank Logo and G-Man for the time they spent listening to me whine about my back and the laughs they provided this week. Thanks. MWAH!