The Verge of Combustion

My tympanoplasty and mastoidectomy surgery journey round 2. Documenting my experience this time to give insight, encouragement, hope, or perhaps help others feel seen who have a cholesteatoma.

It wasn’t a sudden flash of restless awakening; it was a gradual discomposure. In part to blame are the days leading up to my surgery, where I focused everything on being packed and planned for my stay and the most power-packed recovery known to mankind, complete with exactly the right supplements and nutrition programming. The first of my mindset mistakes I inculpate the Hawaiian weather, which deceived the clothing selection part of my brain. I packed for an endless summer with multiple swimsuits and hot-weather workout attire, even though my stay was scheduled for October and November in North Texas. I anticipated spending afternoons in the pool during recovery until I was able to hit the pavement with my favorite running shoes. I converted any fears of the surgery and homesickness into an eagerness to return home more conditioned and feeling more restored. I packed a stack of books, one for every week that I would be away. Hilariously, my “powerful” post-op preparations through researching, strategizing, and planning instead showcased my positive Pollyanna naivety.

I was nervous, but so practiced in playing tough I could not find it in myself to actually communicate that I needed my hand held. I fell asleep and woke up, then spent the next week doing that over and over.

My meal planning was tossed into the rubbish bin when I realized I was unable to chew or even open my mouth wide enough for spoonfuls of yogurt. I enjoyed recreating my menu, but was relegated to leaning on others to prepare my food. Though I was immensely grateful, being served is an act that deeply unsettles me. I switched gears as soon as my brain had capacity. The pride in re-creating the perfect macro stack and caloric planning for my “activity” level and recovery was a welcome distraction.

Now here we are at two weeks out and my mind is so very restless. I am eager to work, to write, to read more, yet my stamina is short-lived. My mind thinks my body can move more, and my body believes me too, but then the inflammation around the surgical site makes my head feel full, the lightheadedness and the nausea set in to slap my hand back to my recovery bed.

Ugh.

Get me out of here.

I see my doctor tomorrow, and I am wishing upon a star that he says I can book my flight home to be with my babies. I miss them so much.