Whew

 Herself speaks.

On the heels of the catastrophic migraine of last weekend, we launched right into revision of the last MOHS surgery site on Monday. The revision was necessary because the site had closed in an uneven manner: unsightly. (Ah, the silver lining of the Pandemic --  being able to wear a mask over my nose on the rare occasion I am out in public.) 

The revision was surprisingly unpleasant, given that I've had two previous MOHS surgeries on my nose and should be accustomed to the sensations. Perhaps it was because this surgery required two layers of multiple sutures and a lot of fiddling around in general as the dermatologist sewed things up -- the previous MOHS, which left the site open to heal over gradually by itself, did not include the same level of manipulation -- but there was much more bruising and pain this time. It also took until Thursday to really see exactly what the scar might look like, given the swelling and leftover bleeding/oozing. (Yuck.) It should probably look fine, eventually. At any rate, it will look better than the previous lumpy scar.

It can be hard to focus on work when the middle of your face hurts. Everything I've accomplished this week has been done by sheer brute force: pick a task, peck away at it until it is done; pick the next task, peck away at it. It's a lot like climbing a mountain -- one foot in front of the other, step by step. It has been... tiring.

I'll get there. 

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The hardest part of migraine or post-skin-repair-recovery, or any other literal or metaphorical pain encountered, is the child-like desire to have someone else mitigate the distress somehow. Help me. But what is to be done? I take what meds need taking, I clean and bandage the surgical site, I try to prepare myself nutritious meals and to get sufficient rest within the confines of my resources and my responsibilities. I listen to my emotions, identify them, acknowledge their presence. That's all that can be done. 

Pointing out to someone else that I am suffering, whether from physical or emotional pain, does not yield amelioration; people are busy, have their own lives and their own sufferings, and also their own limitations. They do not have the capacity or ability to help. If I don't expect any help, I won't be disappointed. I'll just move forward as best I can. 

Things will get better. One day at a time.