I woke up lying on my left side this morning, which made it a good day.
Let me explain. I had my left hip replaced, as I’ve mentioned, about a month ago. One of the things they tell you when you get your upgrade is that it’s good to lie in bed with the wound side down. Helps the healing somehow. This, of course, is easier said than done. Even while you’re on the prescription pain killers (which I quit weeks ago), you’re not so numb that lying on top of your stitches is something you’d ever choose to do for fun.
But this morning I found that I’d rolled over on that side in my sleep. Which means I’m healing up. I knew that already, of course. On Saturday it occurred to me that I was in less pain than I’d been the day before the operation. So it’s all upswing from here on.
And I’m almost done with my graduate school work. My capstone project paper is essentially written; just a little buffing and padding to do. Monday’s the deadline, and I’m likely to turn it in before then.
All this makes right now a pretty good time in my life.
It’s been a strange 2¼ years. I began school way back in late 2013, and then came the first hip replacement in January, and now I’m recovering from the matching procedure just before finishing the academic work for good. A long stretch of time, bracketed by prosthetics.
This is not what I expected my life to be like when I got to middle age. But it has been interesting.
They say prisoners feel a reluctance to leave the penitentiary after an extended stay. It doesn’t matter how grim and abusive the prison is – it has become familiar and comfortable, in some way. Outside the walls anything can happen – do I remember the rules? Have the rules changed?
I feel something vaguely similar about facing life after grad school. Not that I have to wonder what I’ll do with my time. I’ve got novels to write and a regular blogging schedule to pick up again. I’ll be able to have dinner with friends in the evenings, without rearranging my study schedule. But it’s a change, and in my heart I don’t much like change.
So will I go for my doctorate now?
Not if I have anything to say about it.
Thanks for this — I’ve been wondering how your recovery was going.
I can relate to not wanting to leave school. I remember enjoying seminary so much that during my final semester I asked the Dean (whose name graces the entrance to Lars’s library) if I could stay for another year if I failed a class. He told me no, that I had to go on my internship. Then, somehow in spite of my setting the all time school record for the most late papers in the school’s history, they put enough credits on my transcript so that they graduated me in order to keep me from coming back.