After a month of nothingness and extreme low mood, finally I had a tremendous news, the one I have been waiting for since the moment I opened my eyes in the recovery room at the hospital: my physiotherapist agreed for me to go back to the gym! No lifting weights, that will begin only after recovery, but anything else I used to do before this terrible stop is a yes, green lights, go go go go go. I almost cried of happiness and So, I decided that in order to lift my spirit, I will record my journey “from zero to hero”: I will take pictures of me as I am now and keep recording my progresses along the way. My aim is that, by the end of this year, I’ll be able to deadlift weights, have my amazing JLO bum again (and make it even better than what I had) and super abs. I am so excited. It really changed my day this news. I will also try and do some yoga or pilates as well (so long as there is no shoulder involvement) as I feel my back has been as flexible as a concrete pillar lately, and I would really like to be less stiff again: I’m sure my back would really appreciate it.
Today I woke up in a particularly irritable mood: the pain kept me awake at night and this morning I was a total mess. I even curled up and had a good cry on the sofa, with my poor boyfriend having to talk me out of my dark cloud of negativity. I dragged myself to physiotherapy in a “dead man walking” kind of feeling, and as soon as I saw my physiotherapist I told her how sad and desperate I felt. My range of movements has noticeably decreased (yey… not) so now I have been referred to hydrotherapy to try and get things going again. I am weirdly excited about it: I don’t fancy being in a pool with a physiotherapist pulling and prodding me, but hey, if that helps, bring it on, right? I bet it’s going to be hilarious.
I will be very honest, this morning I felt like I hit a wall in my recovery. I just passed the “week four” mark of my journey and I seriously had enough of all of this. I’m trying hard to stay positive, to tell myself “it’s only temporary, it is for the greater good, soon it will be over and you’ll be stronger and pain free”, but reality is that I feel a prisoner of my body: I’m fed up of being unable to do anything more than lifting a glass a water, I’m done with the pain, I hate feeling weak and, most of all, I hate not being able to live a normal life because pain (or extremely limited movements) prevents me from doing so. On top of all of this, add that I lost my beautiful gym body that I worked my ass off to achieve, and you have a recipe for total mental and physical disaster.
I knew it would have been hard. As soon the surgeon said “it will take four months for complete recovery and it’s not going to be easy” I knew I was in for quite a frustrating ride, but one thing is knowing it’s going to be difficult, another one being in the moment, facing the difficult times, realising it’s only just month one out of four and thinking “fuck me, this is hell”. My mood has been pretty low, I admit. I feel this kind of set me back a bit. I do not regret the operation, let’s be clear, especially after I saw the pictures of what I had inside (ewwww…. Gross). I am absolutely convinced it was the right thing and I would do it again in a heartbeat, it had to be done to prevent rupturing my tendon, I just cannot stand this recovery and this feeling so useless: it seems never ending!
On another note, I have been talking a lot with my dear friend Marge lately on all the talents that I have and that I’m not using to the full potential (and she is damn right about it), so I decided to use these three remaining months to find a way to become a freelance writer or something like that. I would love to be paid to write, since it is something I absolutely adore doing it, especially when it comes to corporate communications, customer service emails, complaints etc. That is mainly why I started this blog: to fulfil my love for writing and to be able to share my experience with people all over the world, and maybe to help them too. Do you want to know what my secret writing dream is? Becoming in charge of my very own “agony aunt” advice column: oh, I would answer basically every letter or email coming my way, so much I love this stuff! I know it won’t be easy, but hey, it is also not exactly open-heart surgery, right? Besides, if you don’t try, you don’t get, and I learned my lesson when I gave a go to writing my President’s Christmas corporate message and he loved it so much it went global. Who knows what can happen from this? Maybe I will change my life!