The Little Things

This morning after my shower I was contemplating what to wear and was dreading the thought of donning yet another pair of “comfy” pants; the yoga pants and stretch pants I had hoarded for post-surgery garb made nice loungewear, but wearing them in public has been a miniature nightmare for me. Nothing says “I give up” quite like wearing loungewear at the grocery store. And don’t get me started on how the average college student comes to class.

Anyway, I decided to give my jeans another try after a crushing defeat the week before which saw me getting my pant leg on about six inches short of what it needed to be. Even my stretchier jeans would have rendered the fabric too tight over the incision to be very comfortable so I put them away in disgust. This morning’s attempt seemed much more promising after Joan’s assertion yesterday that the majority of my swelling was gone, and indeed the pants felt fine after easing them over the few remaining steri-strips that refused to budge. The ten pounds I lost since surgery made things even better and it was just the sort of boost I have desperately needed after a week of frustration.

Once again I am reminded of how recovery is crafted of small victories and milestones, some of them painfully gradual in coming. It has reminded me to slow down, practice patience and be grateful for the dopey little things I previously took for granted.


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