A View from a Hospital Bed

It's been months since I have blogged and the first time I put fingers to keys, I am in a drug-induced haze after a major operation.  Funnily enough, though I'm in a lot of pain (and the nurse says I can't have any more pain meds for two more hours!), I feel overwhelmingly optimistic.

My view

I elected to have this surgery because I want a chance at living a pain-free life.  Ironically, as I lie here in my hospital bed, high up on Victoria Peak overlooking the vast expanse of Hong Kong, I am in a massive amount of pain.  Yet my mind is clear. Unstressed.  I just am.  I don't know if it's the drugs talking, but I only feel the pain.  The pain isn't me.  It's just present and I am something much deeper than that.

I feel deeply at peace.  I can do nothing.  I have no obligations.  I need help with everything. (And I mean everything!  Imagine the indignity of pooping in a bed pan.  On the other hand, I love the catheter.  It's so nice not being concerned about when you have to pee and drinking as much as I want.)

Not being able to move is strangely liberating.  I can only be.  Suddenly I have zero obligations yet the easiest tasks are impossible.   I can't reach or turn or lift my body high enough to fit a bed pan under me.  Every part of my back and buttocks ache.  I haven't moved from the position I am in for more than 24 hours now and I can't imagine ever even being able to sit up again never mind walk.  What to do?  Just wait.  Just be.  Just see.

Baby steps.  New start every day?  You bet!

My lucky roommate who got to go home before I did!