How to be realistic?

Or perhaps I should say, “don’t worry everyone, I’m not over-doing it.”

I suppose it is normal in situations such as this to kick yourself for how much you took for granted.  I knew I liked independence, organisation, planning, achievement.  You just don’t expect to have to put that aside, to rely so heavily on others, and to put so much of your energy into getting through the day.

Take Tuesday, for example.

I’ve been to mothers group once since leaving hospital, but I’m often napping or steeped in post-nap drowsiness at 3pm.  But on Tuesday, mothers group met at 8.30am and Deb kindly drove me.  Just before I left, Alannah’s child care called Darren to pick her up.  Hand, foot and mouth.  Again?  Darren insisted he had it under control (which of course he did) and I should get some fresh air.  Mothers group started at Trumper Park, but found it unfriendly for 13-14 month olds and ditched it for Rushcutters Bay Park.  Alannah and I have spent many happy afternoons there and it was lovely to return, especially with such lovely mums and toddlers.

As we returned at 10.15am, Deb dropped me at the doctor’s clinic at the end of our road in time for Alannah’s appointment.  We finally got in to see the doctor at 11am.  She has hand, foot and mouth again, he confirmed.  It is meant to be like chicken pox: one time and you’re done.  But like chicken pox, if you don’t suffer enough the first time around, you can be blessed with a second dose.  By the time we got out of there, Alannah was an hour past her 10.15am and rubbing her little eyes out.

Darren put Alannah to bed and I took myself off to bed.  She slept for an hour and a half.  I slept for three hours.

I wanted to go to mothers group and to the doctor’s appointment.  I’m happy I went.  But my body is very clear when it has had enough and I have to listen to it.  Well, mostly.  I miss the window for sleep occasionally and I feel sluggish all day.

I mentioned the fatigue to my dear Dr A on Monday.  Remember what I said, he asked.  You are still going to feel like this six months after surgery.

I do remember it on days like Tuesday.  On other days, I get ahead of myself and forget to be realistic about the length of time until I am back on my feet.  Metaphorically as well as literally.

Of course, I wish the recovery were faster.  Then I must remind myself that there’s nothing wrong with slow and steady.  At least I can keep up.

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