I’m the first to admit I purposely did not look too closely at how I’d probably feel after brain surgery. I read many people’s accounts several months ago and left it at that. I was going to bask in a bubble of love. That was it. That, and the undying devotion of my beloved, was my entire plan.
Undoubtedly I’m affected by drugs. I had a seizure in the ICU and even though I’m on one of the most mild anti-seizure drugs, it’s suppressing my experience of myself and the world. So odd. I know I’m experiencing emotions but I can’t access them. And I don’t want to.
My wrists are blackened from being stabbed with IVs. There is still blood in my hair. There’s a line of maybe 80 staples across my head. I hardly recognize my face. Everything feels bad. I thought I’d be sleeping for a week, but no, I’m so awake. This is so not what I expected. It feels like I don’t know who I am. Surgery is so weird.
My love is caring wonderfully for me. All I have to do is rest and heal for now. This is a huge gift.