Healing is the worst
I hate being sick and I hate waiting. Ergh! (Canva)
I try to be a good example to people in my life. I often fail miserably, but I do try.
Last week, I returned to work after major surgery. (I was blown away by the well-wishes; thank you!) You’d think that I’d be grumpy about coming back to work, but I could. Not. Wait.
(You’ll note my gratuitous use of emojis, something I loathe, to symbolize my impatience and desperation.)
My impatience is a key personality trait. Fueled by ADHD, I don’t like to wait around. So, being told to wait around for 2-6 weeks is like being told to hit myself in the face for the same period of time. Unless that waiting around is on a warm, Mexican beach with a pina colada in one hand and a good book in the other. Then I’m good.
Things I did while I waited healed:
- Binged watched old action movies and Wednesday on Netflix
- Read trashy novels
- Slept
- Napped
- Told my dog I couldn’t walk her, then felt guilty
- Looked at the state of my house, then felt guilty
- Checked my work email despite being told repeatedly by my boss and co-workers not to check my email
- Worked on stripping paint off an old dresser, earning me rebukes from my family for not taking it easy
- Napped some more
Someone told me last week that they were impressed by the fact that I actually took the time I needed to heal, and I managed to hold my sardonic response inside my head for once.
I’m sure there’s a lesson here for me and for all of us overachievers about giving yourself and your body the space and time needed without apologizing to the world for taking it.
But I’m not sure I learned it. Healing is the worst.
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