Back to work

Recovery has been much faster than I (or anyone) thought it would be. Went back to work on Wednesday, and finished the week feeling fairly good. Thursday afternoon involved a walk across campus from office to class, but it was uneventful. My voice comes and goes, and I’m usually asleep by 9pm, but things seem almost back to normal. The incision’s still pretty scary — I’m hoping turtleneck weather holds out another week or so — but it’s visibly healing.

Still some residual aches, especially in my right arm and between my shoulders, but this is probably from a combination of nerve inflammation and the bone graft. Arm muscles are pretty tender, too, because they’re now getting the use they didn’t get for a couple of weeks. Getting out of bed in the morning is still rough, with shoulder pains from hard sleep.

But looking at the top shelf at the grocery store doesn’t set off headaches anymore, and the mystery pains from two weeks ago are gone. The obsession about nerve damage has disappeared, replaced by uncertainty about the fusion and plating — uncertainties that will fade in time.

And it’s still difficult to write about this. I’ve kept some emotional distance from this whole episode, and it’s come through my writing about it. The workings have been intellectually interesting, but I know it’s also had an emotional impact — though I can’t deal with exploring it yet. The first time I was able to wash my hair I felt my skull through my scalp, and was struck by how a small column of bone and some tissue are all that hold my life together.

About a year ago I watched my mother pass peacefully after twelve years with Alzheimer’s. As we dressed her in fresh clothing, her body still warm, I felt bone through skin, and wondered how we live such connected lives trapped in these fragile, limited cages.