In short, it turns out John's part Wolverine, only with more of the super healing part and less of the stabby bits. (Also I meant the X-men Wolverine, not the bitey badger thing, but you probably got that.)
If you're lost (re: ARMageddon, not Wolverine), I should mention John had shoulder surgery on the 13th. It involved severing a torn bicep tendon, re-attaching it to his shoulder with a screw, and then "cleaning out" a lot of old damage. [shudder]
Everyone's told us to expect a slow recovery: Lots of pain, 6 weeks at a minimum in the sling, then a gradual transition over 6 months before John can tackle the hardest stuff, like weight training.
However, in less than a week John had weaned himself completely off pain meds and was shocking his physical trainers with his post-op range of motion.
At one week John hit his 4-week physical therapy goals, and was being restrained by the trainers from going further, faster. (We're going to ask the doctor about speeding up the time table.)
At Day 8 John had his stitches out and we re-enacted this Pit of Despair scene. Because of course we did.
By Day 10 John was out of the recliner and sleeping in bed again, and got the grudging all-clear from his extremely protective trainer to resume driving.
I'm writing this on Day 11, and John is completely, stubbornly self-sufficient once more. He's learned to do absolutely everything one-handed, and can shower and dress and drive and even cook all on his own. He's out of the sling most of the time now, and only has to wear it while sleeping or when we leave the house. He can even use both hands to type. The only times he really needs help are with his cooling unit, which we hook up a few times a day after his exercises to help with inflammation, and the occasional pants-hitch.
I'm staggered by how quickly John's progressed, and so proud of him for working so incredibly hard. I'm also ashamed of what a dreadful nurse I've been, and feeling more than a little guilty over my attitude the past two weeks.
To be fair, I told you guys I was going to step up, and I did. I drove and I made meals and I fetched ice packs and I did all the things. I didn't even panic! ... but peeps, I was the grumpiest of grumps doing it. I was so focused on just DOING, on not panicking, on checking off all the boxes on my lists, that I neglected to do them with love. That may sound trite, but it's so, so important. I rushed around and avoided eye contact. I delivered meals without a word, then swept off to clean the kitchen while John ate. I groused every time I had to leave off writing to deliver pills or plug in machines or drive to the store. I made John feel like a burden. I made him feel like an inconvenience.
So while I'm thrilled that John is healing well and feeling less cooped up and helpless, I'm also keenly aware that those past 10 days were my shot - my big chance to repay John a million tiny kindnesses - and I blew it. I threw away my shot. I can blame my anxiety, my agoraphobia, the fact that I was hurting and scared and PMSing. I can say I'm a one-track introvert who doesn't multi-task well. But I screwed up, guys, and I need to do better.
So I'm going to try to remember this. To remember the way I do something is just as important as the thing itself. To remember my love and my friends and my family come first, people come first, not my schedule and to-do lists. I need to allow myself to be interrupted for more hugs, more laughs, more impromptu Princess Bride re-enactments. I need to remember it's not all on me to make the world turn.
Egadz, that took too long to say. Here, let's get on to the fun part: John's new favorite thing ever to happen at Disney.
If you've been to Animal Kingdom then you probably know "the bird show," AKA, Flights of Wonder. John and I love it. So when we were there a few days before his surgery, we thought, hey, wouldn't it be AWESOME if someone could get picked to go onstage during the owl fly-over, then take a slow-motion video of it? So we headed straight to the next show, and when the time came John's hand shot into the air...
AND GUESS WHAT:
John was positively giddy, which must have showed since Guano Joe immediately picked him to go onstage. Ha! And here, for those who don't want to watch the video, I made a .gif of the best part:
Hard to believe that's the slow-motion version. Owls are fast!
AnyHOO (see what I did there?), sorry I waited so long to share that; John's been itching for you guys to see his moment of glory since it happened. :D
Happy Sunday, everyone! Here's to slowing down, looking up, and taking more flights of fancy.