I had a dentist appointment yesterday afternoon and I have an appointment scheduled with my psychiatrist for Monday morning. I'm so tired of seeing doctors. After these appointments, I won't have another until April 17, when I'll go back to see my plastic surgeon. My oncologist is in May and my oncology surgeon is in June. It would be great if I could get all of these appointments jammed in together in one week just to reduce the travel time, but that doesn't seem to be possible.
Recovery is going well. I'm almost all healed in both areas. The tummy incision is still healing on the inside, so I still have to be cautious about what I do. I'm still having some pain, but it's very bearable. My depression seems to be lifting. I'm persevering in trying to crawl out of the deep, dark hole into a slightly sunnier hole.
I had a conversation this morning with a co-worker who's having some pain issues about how I've dealt with all of this, physically and emotionally. Without using the name, I told him that I practiced mindfulness meditation and that helped me get through most of the past year and a half.
Paying close attention to physical and emotional states definitely helped me get through the frequent panic attacks after diagnosis. It was also useful during chemo and radiation therapy. "This is what it feels like..." experience skin, muscles and bones one tiny bit at a time, inch by inch. Rejecting the physical and emotional agony only makes things worse, because there is, after all, no escape.
"I don't see how that helps," he said.
I told him I don't know how it helps, either. It's a paradox. We all have to find our own way of dealing with intense, ongoing physical and/or psychological pain. It's not magic, unfortunately. I try to stay focused on the moment at hand. Even if it's a really crappy moment. I have to confess, though, that the week after my reconstruction surgery was not spent in the moment.
A couple of years ago after a conversation like this, I would have scurried off to find on the web some techniques for coping with pain and sent my co-worker the urls. I'm just not that helpful anymore. This co-worker would like a panacea that requires no work on his part and I think that, if he can't put some effort into it, neither can I.
I don't think I'd now offer help under any circumstances. Sometimes you have to know when to take care of yourself. Sometimes that takes all the physical and emotional energy you can muster.
