I sit in my recliner every day. It's as though it's my compact little home. I eat while sitting in it, sleep while sitting in it, watch TV in it, read in it, crochet in it...everything.
At almost 2 weeks out, I can be home by myself. I get up and wash up in the sink as best I can. Every third day I wash my hair in the sink as best I can and let it dry or if I have enough strength, I dry it a bit with the blow dryer. Just doing that, exhausts me. I have to go back to my chair and rest for a while.
I've had lunch guests almost every day I've been home, either Pete or family/friends. Sunday we had a friend over with her 3 dogs for about an hour. Then I had a friend from a message board I belong to over for an hour or so. I was wiped out. The activity, even if I'm only sitting in my chair, tires me out.
When I'm by myself I read on my Nook, watch some TV (but this is already getting old), crochet a line or two, play a game on my phone/social network or read blogs/message boards on my netbook. I take the dog out every couple of hours by putting him on his line and I sit in a chair on the patio. The sun feels good on my face and the weather's been good.
I tried early on to get into bed to sleep and couldn't do it. I couldn't lean back, even with a bunch of pillows and Pete and I struggled to get me out. Last Friday, I could get in bed myself and I took a couple hour restless nap there. So last night I decided I was strong enough to get in bed and I was going to slept the night there with Pete. It's so disjointed to me to kiss him good night and we go to separate rooms. I just want to cuddle with him again. Watch TV with him holding my hand (even the chair makes this hard).
I got in and adjusted the Sleep Number bed and relaxed. And it felt wonderful. For about 3 hours. Then I felt like I just couldn't support myself or I was sliding down and the pressure on my abdomen and my chest was uncomfortable. Actually it started about 2 hours in and I kept readjusting myself to see if I could figure out the combination. But it just wasn't going to work.
I feel so defeated. This is the point in recovery where I feel ok and I think I could be back to "normal" and the fact that I'm not makes me feel just miserable. I cried as I got out of bed and came back down to my chair. Pete comforted me, but in the end, he again had to kiss me goodnight and head to our separate rooms.