The 'Pause That Refreshes - Surgical Menopause
By the end of the first week, I was walking a little farther, though bent in half. The catheter was out and I could dress myself very slowly, though putting on pantyhose was impossible. I shifted to panties and thin socks and while I could just barely manage to lift one leg at a time to get the panties on, I needed help with the socks. Midway into the second week I actually went into the office of my client. Amid stares and tsk-tsk clucking sounds I walked from cubicle to cubicle, still bent over, moving at the speed of a turtle. By the time I got home, I could do little but strip off my corporate clothes and fall into bed.
The third week wasn't much better. Worse, toward the end of the week, I admitted both to myself and to my client that I couldn't take it. We agreed I would work from home for the next several weeks, which was preferable to me anyway because I needed a one-hour nap every two hours. Apparently, this a medical condition known as "stupidity relapse". Worse still, I had to hear my friends say, "I told you so," and, "just give it another three or four weeks."
During week four I began to walk upright, but I became obsessed with my post-surgical physical symptoms. My abdomen was numb and my scar was itchy. I experienced jolting muscle spasms in areas of my body I no longer had. And I had no desire for food. For a change. Luckily, Steve was there to tell me that this was all normal - he'd had a hernia operation three years before and was able to reassure me at least about this part of the recovery cycle.
Throughout week five I entertained inquiries. People who knew I'd had The Surgery were comfortable enough to ask how I was doing. At least six women came out of the surgical hysterectomy closet and admitted it was the best thing they'd ever done. While my energy remained low, I began to walk again at my normal pace and began to return to my pre-surgery eating habits (damn!). But I could put my pantyhose on again.
By the sixth week, I felt much better, especially after I attended my post-op appointment and heard my doctor say I was healing beautifully. Now, it was her turn to say, "I told you so," about the
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