So I think I had the nerve to claim that I can make myself bad ass by thinking I am bad ass. Jeebs, I’m just a plain ass.
So perhaps I didn’t worry that much before surgery. But man how I’ve worried and whimpered and whined ever since it was done! I really can’t handle when things don’t go the way I planned, or when I feel like I’m not in control.
Its not that I didn’t prepare for post-surgery pain. I did. I was definitely ready for some suffering. But I apparently prepared for the wrong kind of pain.
I expected my surgery wounds to hurt like hell for a couple of days, but weirdly enough the wounds haven’t caused me much trouble at all. Instead it feels like my fracture has re-fractured – I can’t walk much more than 20 steps without wanting to shoot someone.
I don’t know, perhaps that’s perfectly normal. With the pins holding the intramedullary nail gone, my tibia is perhaps more exposed to my weight. Or perhaps the periosteum was affected during surgery? I don’t know. What I do know is that it feels as if I’ve been thrown back in time 5 months or so. It feels like I’ve been thrown back in jail. When I look down at my leg, I can’t see it for what it is, instead all I see is this:
I know that I’m being silly, and that it will heal in time. All I have to do is to wait. But I can’t seem to help myself from panicking. Its completely irrational, I know, I know. Where the heck is my mental strength now? I hate that I can’t control myself, and probably even more, that I can’t control my leg. It doesn’t matter how hard I work, my leg just needs time to heal.
But how much time? I guess an additional reason for why I feel so frustrated is that I’m running a bit short on time. I have about 1 week until I need to be up and ready to ride the trails of my life in Sierra Nevada. I’ve been looking forward to this trip all autumn. It’s what has kept me motivated to work my ass off. The one big adventure of the year. What if I screwed up?