Remembering How

It’s been fascinating the last couple of years, remembering how to do things that at this stage of life we just do.
The second brain surgery had a couple of consequences that I wasn’t anticipating. Mostly, I expected it to be very much like the first one even though it was described very differently.
The first surgery resulted in a long ICU stage. I was experiencing unexplained pain that we kept looking for the source of. Test after test resulted in not having an explanation. It was a physical therapist that figured it out. She came in to help me move from the bed to a chair. I tried to negotiate a nap. After a bit of banter back and forth, she looked me square in the eye and asked –”Are you really in pain or reacting to the pain you think is coming?” Hmmmmmm. She hit the nail on the head. Truth be told there was no real pain, just the anticipation. That afternoon I was up walking, and the next day heading home.
After being home a few days, I realized I was being overly cautious. I distinctly remember telling myself – shake it off and get back to normal and I did.
The second surgery involved removing the inner ear, at the time it didn’t dawn on me that meant the vestibule was removed from that side. The vestibule is what helps us balance. This would mean retraining the brain as to what being balanced means.
Soon after the surgery, the doctors let me know the fifth and seventh facial nerves were damaged, only time would tell what that meant. Over the next couple of days (maybe weeks) the facial nerves on the left side of my face completely paralyzed. This meant only half my mouth worked and my left eye wasn’t blinking.
The mouth not working meant having to figure out how to eat and drink without wearing my meals. I remember sitting on the couch looking at a bottle of water, thinking – “How do you drink from a water bottle?” It’s one of those things you just do.
The eye not blinking has brought many complications. Most notably, without blinking it dried out, cracked and infected. It’s taken more than two years and more than fifty visits with the eye doctor but the eye is finally feeling on the mend. I still do antibiotic drops every two hours to prevent infection, and wetting drops in-between to prevent drying. But I can feel when it’s getting dry now and make the eye blink. I anticipate just a matter of time before the nerves completely regenerate and the eye functions again.
The greatest challenge has been learning to walk and do other balance-related tasks, the greatest challenge is stairs without handrails.
The most entertaining walking story happened in Algeria. My host had taken me to a museum with a long flight of stairs without a handrail. I did ok climbing up the stairs by taking her arm. As we stood at the top of the stair to make the return trip, I realized how tiny she was, no way would she be able to stop a fall. I couldn’t shake the panic. I sat down and scooted down the first flight, the panic passed and we walked the second flight together.
It’s been two years and walking isn’t natural yet but gets better every day. I’m convinced part of the challenge is breaking habits that have developed. I have conversations with myself regularly, but habits are hard to break.
My husband convinced me to try golf again. Amazingly, since the habits hadn’t been transferred to the golf course, walking and moving about was much more natural.
A legacy moment, that this stage of recovery may be coming to a close.