Guest Blogger: Mom/Gaba on Recovery

Bed rest with grandkids

My mom’s spirit is strong and her body’s getting there. Here she shares some of her thoughts as she recovers:

I’m two-and-one-half weeks post-op with a six to nine month journey ahead of me.

As I try to type this on my new iPhone, thanks to my hubby’s generosity and my son’s tech help, I’m looking out at a resort type view of the lake with my faithful companion curled at my feet.

My eyes are welling up, but they’re not filled with tears of pain. I truly am overwhelmed by the outpouring of prayers, love, concern, phone calls, meals, and so many other blessings I’ve received since my back surgery.

I’ll start with the dog – a therapy dog on sabbatical. Even my four-legged companion has helped me to recover. I can’t take her to see her friends at the nursing homes or schools, but she is still taking her job very seriously. She is constantly at my side not even wanting to go outside to relieve herself. Truth be told, I think she likes the idea of being allowed in bed 24/7. Pain meds are still much needed and as grateful as I am for the relief they bring, they do tend to keep me from doing much, so Ivy and I spend a lot of time curled in bed together.

My dog’s also good for laughs. While I was trying to take care of business, Ivy, ever the therapy dog, was outside the bathroom door pushing one of her toy ducks which sounded exactly like a…..well….a fart! (If you are a faithful follower of Katie’s blog, you know how infatuated our family is with that sort of thing.). Apparently, it has even rubbed off on the dog.

My church, friends and family have bombarded us with culinary delights. My husband may never want me to be well enough to cook.

Louise, my sister-in-law/friend, has been there for everything. She has truly been my own special angel in every sense of the word. She brings me meals, the Eucharist and friendship. She has also been my gatekeeper by intercepting calls, visits, etc. because she knows me better than I know myself. Being a natural extrovert, I would have spent all my healing time entertaining instead of resting.

My sister, brother and all my other loved ones have filled my days with flowers, surprise packages of goodies, cards – you name it. I feel like a celebrity.

My kids have thought and done everything from taking time off work, writing thank you cards on my behalf, updating all via email, spending the night with me when my husband has to travel, and the list goes on and on. Mostly, they’ve given up their valuable time to be my friend and to make me laugh even when it hurt to do so. Oh, and my son-in-law doctor answered all my silly questions

The grandkids are healing me from the inside out. Maddy and Rae rush to my side to hold my hand when I get up. I initially needed a walker in the bathroom at home and with each holding a hand they escorted me to the toilet. I closed the door and used the walker to get situated when I heard the door squeak open and saw two pairs of eyes watching their Gaba squatting with the assistance of a walker. Silly Gaba, their eyes seemed to be saying. (As hard as it was, I requested they did not visit me during my five-day hospital stay. A walker in the bathroom is one thing, but I chose not to have them see me hooked up to IVs and tubes.) M.E., the baby, lights up a room and my heart with those big blue eyes and belly giggles.

My hero, my husband, has had to take care of me physically and try to put up with my type A personality. “Please straighten this or that,” I’m always saying.

He proclaims to all what a lousy nurse he is comparing himself to the very worst of all nurses – Nurse Ratchet from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. NOT TRUE! He’s desperately trying to balance a very demanding career, a hopefully less demanding patient and a large household as well as my beloved gardens. If there’s fault to be found, it’s that he is not fond of cleaning. Actually, I don’t think he even sees the dirt around him. I call that a blessing, not a curse.

During my recovery, I had grand delusions of finally publishing that book on pet therapy, reading by the hour, praying dozens of rosaries, etc., but neither my body nor mind are obliging. The much anticipated naps elude me. Like my daughter Kate I can’t sleep on demand. I know my body needs just that to heal. When my back swells, I listen to it and lie down, but still my mind isn’t all there. I just drift. I’m really trying to soak up those quiet times.

Hopefully, no offense will be taken by my loved ones when I share with you my most treasured and faithful ally through this journey. Often when I lie in bed like a good girl, I envision Jesus walking on the lake much as he did with the apostles. He walks toward me with outstretched arms and crawls in bed and cradles me in his arms and offers me an everlasting healing love. My faith is proving to be the best medicine of all.