Me in bed yesterday afternoon

So, as I said yesterday, I took a sick day and spent the day in bed; half reading and half sleeping. It felt great. But let me say; I felt guilty about it and still do. Honestly, something that has sucked about this whole time I’ve been out on medical leave is that I constantly feel like I’m lying or exaggerating about how I feel. Am I lying or exaggerating? No. However, my paranoia makes me feel like OTHER people think that. It’s likely that some people believe and understand me and others think I’m full of shit. That, I really can’t help. However, I know how it looks. I look fine. In fact, I look better than fine. So many people have told me over the past few months that I look great because of my weight loss; which is so sweet. Going into it, a lot of people warned me that the compliments can be insulting sometimes as if you were “ugly” before and “now” you look nice. I don’t take it like that at all. I think that people want to honor the effort you went through and acknowledge that they see a change in you; one that you strived to make. OR, maybe I’ve just been lucky to be surrounded by people who mean it that way and not in a negative way. Either way, it’s been really nice. And honestly? No one has said a word TO me (or about me that has gotten back to me) that I’m full of shit. This could just be my paranoia speaking because she’s a rude bitch.

No, what my issue really is is that, in some ways, I AM fine. My stitches (both internal and external) have healed excellently. I have lost 60+ pounds (~10 prior to surgery and ~50 post-surgery). I look and feel better than I have in a long time. The “feel better” part is that I can bend my body in ways I couldn’t at my heaviest weight. It also feels better to have shed that 60 pounds in a way that I can only explain by saying that you should imagine what it would feel like to carry a 60 pound backpack on your back for seven years and then finally get to take it off. Yeah, it feels fucking great.

Shirley prefers to sit on me.

So yes, I feel great. HOWEVER, I feel “great” in fits and starts. When I feel great, I feel GREAT and I’m capable of darting around, cleaning things, having LOLercopter conversations with people, chatting, going out and seeing friends and family, etc. BUT, there’s a price to pay for it and that price is settled by exhaustion. The exhaustion is not like I’m unconscious but more like I am tired, a little (aka VERY) foggy, and lethargic. I have no energy or motivation to get up and move, to shower and get dressed (although I always force myself to shower every day), or to talk to anyone. Both the physical and the mental/emotional take a toll on me. I’m an “ambivert” which means I have both introvert and extrovert qualities. I think that most people in my life would categorize me as “definitely an extrovert” but that’s because they know me and I feel comfortable being extroverted with them. In situations where I am not comfortable, I am not so confident or outgoing which are introverted qualities. Another introverted quality about me is that I need time to recharge after being around people. I get easily worn out in crowds, do not like public speaking (because it makes me nervous and also takes it out of me), and I also get an emotional hangover after being with people for too long. That said, I love to go to parties. I’m nervous before going and the introvert side of me always panics before hand and tries to get me not to go but once I get there, just try to get me to leave. It ain’t happening. But then, the day afterwards, I need to lay the fuck down for an entire day and be silent.

And so, I’ve been “stuck” in the house for months; mainly just resting and doing some light tidying up but that’s the extent of it. This week, I went into work twice and worked from home twice and then took one sick day. It was a nice way to re-acclimate. On Monday, I worked from home because I had no meetings and only really had to catch up on some inbox stuff. Tuesday, I went into the office and it was a lot of fun seeing people. Then I overspent my spoons and was sosososo drained on Wednesday so I worked from home. That was enough so that I felt great to go into the office on Thursday which was so much fun. Again, I chatted and LOL’d all day and worked with people and had a generally great time. But then Friday? EXHAUSTED. So exhausted that I just laid down and went to sleep.

I don’t know if I’ve said this on this blog or not but I told my Grandma on Christmas (on our way home from the party) that I feel guilty because I know I look and seem fine but I’m not. I told her that because I’m not visibly ill or, like, riddled with bulletholes (something you can see is CLEARLY WRONG), I feel like it’s “wrong” for me to say that things aren’t right. She knew how I felt because she’s felt like this before in her life.

This is stinker head sleeping on her Mommy.

In November, I thought that perhaps the two year anniversary of my brother’s death was adding to my physical/mental/emotional exhaustion and that’s probably true. With distance, I think it’s mainly that I was taking in so few calories AND this is a major surgery which just means it takes time to heal.

A zoomed out version of the same photo.

So now, I actually see progression. Although I’ve felt low, I DO see my energy steadily improving. I DO want to get back to a regular schedule and get out of the house. I don’t know if I wrote this here or not but in the 2-3 weeks post-surgery, I felt like I was a “disco ball of energy”. I miss that damn disco ball. At the time, my surgeon said, “Well, it’s weird that you feel like a disco ball full of energy this soon after surgery because most patients feel like they have had a bus hit them for a few months and then the disco ball full of energy follows at around the three month post-op mark.” WELL, my disco ball energy was already starting to wane at that point which is why I mentioned it. She said it was normal and put me out of work for an additional three weeks. Boy howdy did it wane, y’all.

Coleen with scrunch on pillow that is falling apart. I DO shower every day but this day I just slept all day hence the makeup under my eyeballs.

So, now I’m actually over 4 months post-op and I cannot find that disco ball for the fucking life of me. Honestly, I don’t need a full disco ball; a small Christmas tree ornament disco ball will do. I’m not picky. If you find one, please send it this way because your boo is hurting.

Shirley’s got pills on her sweater and worried brows although she’s cuddling with her Mom. Drama queen.

Also, for those who are all TLDR, I am NOT lying. I just have “imposter syndrome” about my health because I, like you, look at me and say “She looks fine. She must be full of shit.” I promise you, I am not.

It snowed today and we really need to tip our chairs again.

P.S. I went back and edited this post in the classic editor because I had so many long captions that the post looked convoluted AF. However, it’s creating wonky issues where some of the images are getting HUGE for no conceivable reason because it was “written in block editor” but I am “editing in the classic editor”. Jesus Christmas. Hopefully the nightmare is over.