This past week was hard. I'm so glad that work is going well, because otherwise this past week reminded me that I'm still recovering mentally and physically.
I saw my surgeon Monday for a 6-month follow up and got a great report. When I complimented how well the stitches healed, she returned it to me and said that being healthy played a huge role in the fact the scars are fading away nicely. Teamwork. :)
My surgeon told me that I'll need to go for a mammogram in a month so we can compare my boob before and after treatment. Along with breast checks, this is something I have no interest in doing whatsoever; both represent the beginning of this path I never want to have to embark on again. A friend suggested bringing someone with me to the appointment, which I'm open to.
So, I got to deal with those feelings.
An hour after that appointment, I met with a personal trainer. It went differently than I imagined, but it was good. By good I mean I followed along and did the things, and got praise on my form, and know that the exercises I did are ones that I need.
That said, I was wrecked the rest of the week and still have not recovered. I had to significantly adjust and even skip workouts. That's frustrating because exercise is a huge component in how I manage side effects of my treatments and heal. Also, I realized I can't fathom fitting in a new program that's on top of my current regimen that I'm trying to adjust around my work schedule (or vice versa).
This frustratingly reminded me I am in recovery. Which I knew. But the juxtaposition of picking up work (normal) and going to a trainer (normal) but then having a few exercises derail a week+ (not normal) stung.
Re-entering the workspace also started triggering other reactions to my previous life. Like, in the shower, I just suddenly missed the feeling of shampooing my hair, which used to be shoulder-length. I never had a romantic relationship washing my hair, but I liked it, and when you have something taken away from you, it's a different type of thing to adjust to.
I spent Friday on the couch. Every so often during treatment, I'd lie down and do a marathon of some series, and it was a good habit to be OK with. This week, my body begged for it, so it got what it needed. I'm glad it coincided with a part-time schedule and a holiday weekend.
Related, I think having a tired body set back my radiation recovery a smidgen. I have the symptoms that say, "Go see your doctor," and conveniently I have a Wednesday appointment.
I thought I was farther along than I am.
Recovery takes so much work.
I'll get there.
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