The 5th Day

The number of surgeries I've had is approaching my age at this point. After my hip surgery I posted a status on Facebook about how miserable I was 5 days out. Mike's aunt replied that the 5th day is always the worst. I can't remember many 5th days. I think every single day of the year that followed the spinal fusion was awful. I do remember that 5th day after the hip surgery. Today, a full five months after the hip surgery, I was having a rough day.

I was on my own with kids and the puppy and feeling exhausted from interrupted sleep and healing. Riley was being oppositional and rude over the smallest things. The puppy had a handful of accidents so there was a lot of up and down off the floor. Isaac had a meltdown at school and came home ready for another one. It was very overwhelming.

I dealt with everything in turn, often wondering how mothers of three manage. It occurred to me at 4pm that all I had eaten today was saltines and a Coke. Oops. When the pain level increases my appetite goes the other way. I was mad that I fought through the pain of a full spine fusion on extra strength Tylenol and now this relatively minor procedure was causing me to consider using the pain pill prescription I hadn't wanted in the first place. What's happening to me? Am I turning into a wimp?

On top of the physical pain and fatigue I felt like a failure. Leeloo has ONLY had accidents when I'm here alone. It must be a failure on my part. Both kids were demanding and awful in their own way today. I began to unravel wondering what choices I made that lead them to treat me/their teachers, etc the way they were today. I could also feel Mike's annoyance with me growing.

I interrupted him from work periodically through the day. He's not a natural nurse and he tends to get irritated that I've done too much rather than be sympathetic. He did coerce me into eating and taking Advil at some point. I realized as I was forcing dinner down my throat that today's the 5th day!

No wonder it all feels so bloody hopeless. I'm scared that the surgery didn't actually work and I did all this for nothing. I hate how much pain I'm in, this was supposed to be the "easy one". I hate that the puppy can't just tell me what she needs like the other toddler. I hate how no one said "Thanks! Now go lay down." I hate that I'm starting to forget what day it is because I haven't left the house in so long. I don't feel like I'm doing a good job.

Fifth days suck. I wish I could say with any level of certainty this was the last one. I guess I need to stop expecting to wake up "better". I know I shouldn't complain when my days are spent with this two:

Mike asked me if I remembered any 6 or 7th days. I don't and I think that means they were at least marginally better than the day before.