It's made me realise what people with really bad, serious injuries go through. And I will admit that I have really not ever given that too much thought.
All my life I've seen people wandering round with an arm in a cast and never thought it was a big deal. Oho, it's a big deal alright! Seven weeks later I am much better, but still sore and limited in movement, and doing physio sessions to get my muscle strength back. I cannot lift anything heavier than a couple of hundred grams with my bad arm, cannot lift it higher than my waist, cannot fully straighten it out. I can now shower and dress and undress myself (that was a long first three weeks), but I still have to wake my husband to do up or undo my bra. I haven't gone so many days braless since I was 23!
The length of time taken to heal is because I have an oblique fracture where the break was jagged and the two halves are out of alignment - I've been told 8-10 weeks to heal properly with physio and possible surgery needed (though I don't think now I'll need the surgery).
Anyway, yes, it has made things difficult, not to complain or anything because god knows there are worse things, and many, many, millions of worse injuries. I'm so sorry, injured people, I never gave you much thought before, other than a brief zap of horror or sympathy. You are heroes, all!
So ANYWAY again, it has made me a little lacklustre. It gets you down not being able to do all the things you usually do, and I had a day recently where all I did was literally sit on the couch, trying not to weep in self-pity. I'm over it!
There have been nice things, I must say. I had a very relaxing five-week holiday in place of the hectic 3 week one we had planned. We spent more time sitting back, blending into village life and hanging out with close family, rather than rushing from island to island. We spent much less money on holiday than we budgeted. (Though I did blow some extra on data roaming!)
Other good things:
Husband and kids have stepped up big time to support me and tackle all the day to day. I got over my embarrassment (of, ahem, recent [fat] years) being naked in daylight in front of my husband - I had to, since for the first 3 weeks he usually had to shower me. I have rediscovered walking, and planning and doing less each day, because I can't drive. The kids and I walk to and from school 3 days a week, rain, hail or shine (except twice we took a taxi). I've topped up my Myki and I take the train to work, and I am saving a lot each week by not driving. I have resolved to carry on not driving to work, even with the extra time it takes, and the extra inconvenience of a taxi or pick-up from the station when I've missed the last bus.
On the downside, my husband is exhausted and my mum probably is too with extra taxi-duty she's put in for us lately.
But mostly (at least for me!) the downside is the frustration with not being able to do things. It's a bit of a downer, that can easily feed into other things and sap my enthusiasm for things that I am quite capable of doing. All of which is a very long-winded way of saying I have lost some mojo for now but I will blog again soon. I'll get to it. I'll be back.
What are you struggling with lately? What makes you lose your get-up-and-go?