Each Day Is A New Day

My body is healing itself, yet at a slow and steady pace. In truth, I prefer the tortoise to the hare-- for the tortoise at least has a protective shell to keep him safe. Healing has begun and will continue. It is pretty remarkable that your body is capable of so much. There is no machine or procedure that can replicate that of your body's own healing processes.

I am still on bed rest, but my spirits are high. I have finally found the time to finish that book that I was really missing, to watch the movies that I hadn't even taken the wrapping off of, and to navigate my brain a bit in between.

I have to remind myself, however, at times that every day is a little bit better than the last. This sort of mantra came about last weekend when I was left without power for about 30 hours. It was very quiet and I became very skilled at starting fires-- normally, this probably would have been quite the welcomed accidental retreat. This time was different though. Any time I have something wrong with me medically, I become a worrier, full of anxiety and fear. This weekend was not so much as the retreat that it could have been. I worried constantly about my wound and the correct care for it. My home-healthcare nurse was stranded at her home in Evergreen with a tree landing on her roof. It was definitely trying, but I think that it reminded me that everyday is a new day. Everyday I am one step closer to being healed. Everyday I am stronger and wiser.

I remember back to the last sore that I had that put me out for 3 months. It's funny, really, because I don't remember the actual days of bed rest or pain... I just remember the feeling of getting out of the hospital and how wondrous the world had suddenly become. I am very much looking forward to that again. I can already sense signs of it: the warmth of sunshine on your skin, listening to a car radio, testing out a new restaurant, hearing the sound of people laughing in a crowd. These are all things that I miss, but for some reason or another, I've been reminded of them all.

The Healing Begins

I've now had a week to get acclimated and figure out what my bedrested life is going to look like. My guess is, it will be fairly reminiscent of a teenage boy's typical everyday, minus the sports. My life pretty much consists of sleep, eat, and TV right now.

It is the strangest thing to be acting so lazy. My brain feels like I stayed home sick for the week, but my body knows the difference. I need my brain to continue to feel like I am sick so that I don't go completely nuts. As long as I am "sick," I will be able to comprehend the immobility and lack of social progress.

The strangeness continues, feeling almost 100% better. The only reminder of my infection and sepsis is feeling tired. Most of my body's metabolic jobs are going towards healing this wound; therefore, leaving little room for athletic energy or self-motivated fixing-things-around-the-house energy. So far, my body is requiring about 10 hours of sleep a night, my wheelchair is too heavy anymore, and it takes double the time to do just about any task.

My body is also requiring a lot of protein, which (I guess) I don't typically get enough of. I am not a vegetarian; however, I could be one very easily. I don't really like meat, but usually eat it to get a few extra nutrients throughout my week. With my wound sucking all the nutrient life out of me, it is important to get an adequate amount of protein: A) so that if it is part of the sucked matter, then so be it-- I have more where that came from, and B) that the required rebuilding and repair can take place. It is protein's claim-to-fame to be such a natural at building and repairing tissue. My body now requires about double the amount of protein as before. That's a lot of tuna in a can for me.

I suppose that when it all comes down to it, life is about reflecting and paying attention to you and your surroundings. I am assuming that these were things that I was not doing well at the time of my infection. Apparently someone, somewhere needed me to slow down and open my eyes. I am taking this bedrest vacation as a time for much of those things that become neglected when life moves at the rate of a tornado.

Keeping positivity on the matter, I will be able to heal quicker and with the least amount of resistance. I had my first outpatient doctor's appointment last Wednesday. My doc, Dr. Schreffler, commented that my would was healing very well so far. In fact, he said that it was almost half of it's original size already! If my body is capable of continuing on with such a rate, my body could be healed within the next 3 weeks or so. However, if healing plateaus, even just for a little bit, healing time could be anywhere from 1 month to 3 months.

I am remaining positive and fueling my body with the nutrients and love it needs. I am trying very hard to not riddicule my wound or butt or anything in that direction. I have stopped refering to my wound as stupid, gross, or lame. I need to embrace the thing in order for my body to willingly repair it, right?

As the healing in my body continues, I look for ways to keep my brain occupied and ways for enlightenment of the situation to occur. There is one thing that is for sure, I will do anything to make certain that this whole experience-- when said and done-- is successful and meaningful in making me a better, more well-rounded citizen of the world. That's what is important.