One month ago today I was being moved from Recovery to the ICU.
Today I feel good. I'm doing better at getting my fluids in (at least 64oz/day). I've been pretty consistent in getting my protein in (at least 70g/day). I'm now taking two multivitamins each day, four calcium/vitamin D chewables, and one iron/vitamin C chewable. And there are so many rules: I can't drink while I eat (eating takes 20-30 minutes), and I can't drink for 30-40 minutes after I eat. But I'm eating 4-5 times a day, so that's about 5 hours out of the day when I can't drink. So the 64oz has to get down during the rest of the day, and I can't gulp or chug or down a whole glass, so it's constant sipping. I also have the make sure the iron supplement is at least two hours apart from the calcium supplements, as those two would cancel each other out if taken together. The meals are almost entirely protein, I can't eat much more than the 70g of protein. Most days I'm still supplementing with one 35g protein shake, which takes some of the pressure off of the meals.
My energy levels have been up for the last couple of days, and my mood is better. I'm happy to be eating semi-normal foods (not purées). I have more energy to do some household chores (some new, like preparing these meals, and some old, like laundry and dishes and the like). I mention this only because these things seemed overwhelming a couple of weeks ago. I'm also sleeping better, as I inch back into my normal sleeping positions.
An hour ago I went across the street for a hair cut. My normal haircutter/stylist/person, a nice woman named Taylor who first introduced me to the Obama-as-a-covert-Muslim-assassin meme back in early 2008, is out on maternity leave. So today I met Dan, a friendly gay haircutter/stylist/person who cut my hair. What was interesting was that he was engaging me in the usual "tell me about yourself as I cut your hair for the first time" way, and I found myself debating whether to bring up the surgery. And I realized that this may have been the first conversation I've had in the last month that wasn't about the surgery. Not about how I'm feeling or what I'm eating or how much weight I've lost. So we talked for a few minutes about soap operas, specifically miscarriages, comas, and recasts, and then I mentioned that I'd had surgery a month ago. But it was an interesting peak into a future, when I'll meet people who might never know what I weighed last month, or see that image of me in their mind. And I'm not sure how I feel about that. It's fascinating.
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