From, "holy sh*t I'm happy" to, "f this, walking sucks": The emotional phases of rehab

It's now day 7 of my official rehabilitation after the cartilage transplant. Although I've basically been "rehabbing" for the last year, I feel like I have so much vested in this one; hence, it feels so much more emotional. Like everything else in life, I believe that there are distinct phases - emotional phases - that one endures during the rehab process. In 7 days, I've quickly transitioned from "honeymoon phase" to "skeptical/pissy phase."

The "honeymoon phase," as it sounds, is quite blissful. In the honeymoon phase, you're just so fricken happy to have survived surgery and have reached the point where you hear, "time to start getting better!" "onward and upward!" "you are invincible!" whoohoo! Let's compare it to to something you can identify with - drinking, shall we? It's kinda like that moment (maybe 3 or 4 drinks in?) when everything and everyone around you brings you complete joy. "This is so fun! We should do this more often!" "I love you man. No, really. I love you. I'm sooo thirsty!"

The "skeptical/pissy phase" is right on "honeymoon phase's" ass. Oh don't get too happy now, sister. In this phase, you begin to wonder if the surgery actually worked. You begin to feel pain. You question each and every sensation you feel - What the hell was that? That hurt. Was that a "pop" or a "catch?" Dammit, it was a "lock" wasn't it? Stupid surgery didn't work. Oh look at you walking, like it's all easy and shit. You suck. Again, when drinking, this is the stage at which you start picking fights at the bar. "Ouch! Dude, did you just bump into me?" "What the f are you looking at? Is he looking at me?"

I've currently settled nicely into the "skeptical/pissy phase" simply because I've been met with some resistance. 1 crutch walking quickly escalated from incredibly empowering to difficult and painful. My knee feels like it's "sticking," which worries me...and yesterday when my "good" knee started doing stupid things, I actually threw my crutch 20 feet and started stringing together as many f-bombs as possible. You know you're pissed when you start inserting f-bombs into multisyllabic words (i.e) "ri-fu*&ing-diculous! This is Un-fu*%ing-believiable!" Like seriously? I was faster and more confident on 2 crutches. Perhaps I will just stick with that - walking is stupid anyways. You looking at me? Wanna go?

Lucky for you, I was so flippin excited during the honeymoon phase that I was inspired to do some writing. Here's what was going through my mind for those blissful 36 hours or so. It's insightful, it's beautiful. I picture Snow White frolicking through the meadow, bluebird on her arm, squirrels dancing at her side. It's good for me to re-read this. I obviously need to take my own advice right now, suck it up and fight. I'm anxiously awaiting the next phase, although I have no idea what it is.

The Honeymoon Phase: 
July 15: 1300- July 17: 0800 - Yay! I'm alive! I love myself! I love you! I love everyone!

Picture the joy a dog exhibits when it's owners return home after a long day. Times that joy by 100. That's me. Pure genuine happiness. How can I not be happy? After 8 long weeks of being confined to 2 sticks I am currently doing 1-crutch laps of my hallway to a sweet songza 90's playlist. Freedom!

There was a solid 8 months where I was lost. Completely and totally lost, out there, gonzos. I actually resigned myself to the idea that "fun Kirstie" was simply a wonderful phase of my life, now permanently replaced by dull, flat, sick Kirstie. "Fun Kirstie" was a missing person - a face on a milk carton. I'm betting there are a lot of people out there, who at one time or another, have felt lost. It's bound to happen. Our roles are constantly changing. We are always in transition: child, student, employee, spouse, parent. With each experience, we change. We alter the way we dress, the way we talk. Our activities and interests change. It's all good. That's part of growing up. What's so important; however, is maintaining that sense of "you." We each possess distinct characteristics that make you undeniably "you."

What a summer! 

When I think about the person I am, the person I want to be, I think back to summer of 2002. I was 23. I was turning into one of those clingy, claustrophobicky (my own word) girlfriends. I wanted Evan to spend every minute with me, doing "grownup" activities like, you know, grocery shopping and shit. Ev resisted. He had enough of that. Even though we had planned on spending the summer together in Calgary, Ev made it clear that although he wanted to continue being my boyfriend, he required some space. I was mortified... and then I was pissed. I retaliated by taking a barwenching job at Rick's Lounge, Candle Lake and proceeded to have one of the funnest summers of my life (I'm well aware that funnest is not  grammatically correct, but I honestly can't think of another word that best sums up that summer). I partied like I'd never partied before. I never passed up an invitation for a good time. I laughed, I danced (on pool tables, speakers, tables, etc), I lived it up. I maintained my faithfulness to Evan; however, I stopped worrying about trying to turn us into the couple that I thought we should be at age 23. I stopped comparing us to other couples out there, wondering if we were "keeping up." I stopped seeing myself as "Evan's girlfriend," and gave the real Kirstie a chance to shine through. I look back fondly on that summer. I was young, confident, full of energy, and fun. I exuded positive energy that seemed to draw people to me. It was also a very important event for my and Ev's relationship. When the summer was all said and done, he missed me. I missed him. Prior to that summer I had momentarily lost myself, trying to reinvent myself as "mature girlfriend ready to settle down into adulthood." I needed that summer to remember who I really was - that was the person who Evan had fallen in love with in the first place. It was a TSN turning point in the history of Evan and Kirstie Lindsay.

I'm not saying that one should just go wild, abandon all responsibilities and go on a summer-long bender (although I believe Rick has a "program" like that called "Rum therapy"?? haha). What I'm saying is, it is important to remember a time when you felt truly alive, a time when you were the best version of yourself, and then work your ass off to get back there. Whether it means making a conscious effort to improve your health, quitting that job you hate, or re-introducing yourself to your real interests/hobbies, it is so important to fight to find that missing person.

It seems to me that life constantly challenges this. Life is hard. Sometimes life sucks. It's difficult to maintain your sense of self when you are exhausted, when you are sick, or when you are overwhelmed. There's certainly days where you're just trying to keep your head above water. Sometimes It's easier to resign yourself to the idea that that person is gone... now just a part of your past. But let me tell ya, as I 1-crutch walk to The Notorious B-I-G, although I'm certainly not shooting tequila whilst doing headstands on a pool table, I can feel "fun Kirstie's" positive energy and confidence coursing through my veins and damn it feels good.