Wednesday, a little over 2 weeks after my 5th and 6th surgeries, I sat in the sterile white examination room within the Johns Hopkins Outpatient Center. My drain had been removed the previous Wednesday and I was having my staples removed today. I nervously drummed my fingers on my leg while my stomach lurched inside. Depending on the location, staples can be relatively painless to remove or extremely painful. Unfortunately, mine were in a place that I knew would be very uncomfortable and the anticipation had me a ball of nerves. While I have definitely gotten better at accepting my situation and remaining in the present moment the last two years, times like these still prove to be challenging to stay calm. I tried to remind myself, though, that this was going to happen rather I worried about it or not, so why not make the whole process easier on myself?
About 30 minutes later, I emerged from the tiny examination room staple-free! I will be completely honest with you: it hurt- a lot, but my NP was so supportive and as gentle as possible when removing the staples. My wound also had not closed as we hoped it would with staples, but with time and packing, it will heal. It was an incredible relief to be free of the staples, even if there was now new pain from the open wound. Since returning home, I have been careful not to overdo it and have incorporated more walking into my day. I feel more determined that ever to bounce back from this setback even stronger than before, even if this has been one of my more difficult and painful recoveries.
But with every setback that I face, I also emerge from it feeling lost and quite honestly, alone. I have the incredible support of my family and friends always, as well as thousands of followers who never hesitate to lift me up when I am feeling down, but some of the hardest battles we face are created in our own minds. Being thrown into the world of medicine, surgeries, hopsital stays, and recovery is challenging, not only because of the physical exhaustion and pain that is causes, but the isolation and disconnect that it creates from the rest of the world. You watch friends get married and buy houses and go on vacations and find their dream jobs. You watch the world continue to turn around you while it feels like you are watching from another world. And when you do begin to reenter the world that you have been away from for so long, you feel like a stranger. Not only is everything different than how you left it, but you feel different as well. You now carry weights that are invisible to the eye, but that feel like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, you are thrown back into a world where you now must recreate your reality and reinvent your new "normal." Part of this process also involves relinquishing the fear of the future and its unknowns.
As I continue to navigate through these changes, I find comfort in relishing in the moments of normalcy that I find. These are moments where I am simply living in the moment and that invisible weight on my shoulders is lifted. In these moments, I forget about my ostomy. I forget about my pain. In these moments, I fit into the world just a little easier.
There is so much more to recovery than physically healing. The process of recovering is a mental and emotional journey that will shake you to the core at times- and that is OK. Use your moments of weakness to reflect inwards upon yourself. What are you telling yourself? Are you supporting yourself like you would support a friend or family member going through something similar? Much of the time, we are much harder on ourselves than we could ever imagine being on another person. When I start to feel lost, I take a step back and remind myself just how far I have come. Setbacks are setbacks, but with each one, we come back stronger. When you look back, you are able to see just how far you have come and it renews a sense of hope in you.
Speaking of looking back, after having my drain removed the week prior to my staples, my mom and I made a stop at the Inner Harbor. We have made countless trips to Baltimore for the last two years, but never once was I strong enough to make the stop. We navigated a short distance through the busy city streets and found ourselves in the most peaceful location by the water. Having grown up in southern Maryland, I have many memories of Baltimore and the Inner Harbor from when I was little and was thrilled to see that it has not changed much. It was an indescribable feeling to stand by the water, knowing just how hard I have fought to get to that point. Nothing about the last two years have been easy, but every single challenge that has been thrown at us, we have overcome. And not only have we overcome these challenges, but we have allowed them to mold and shape us in the best way possible. I will always be thankful for that.
I am hopeful that the next month brings even more healing. Recovering from surgery is such a fine balance between moving to heal your body and resting to heal your body, but I have done it before and I will do it again! I hope that by sharing the less-talked-about side of recovery, I can help someone who may be going through something similar. It is OK not to have everything figured out right now. It is OK to give yourself time to heal both physically and emotionally. It is OK not to be OK. No one has it all figured out- even the people who seem to have their lives together. Take time to love your life for exactly what it is, including the messy and not-so-glamorous parts. -Kristen