#Postop

[dee-the-red-witch]

1 week post ffs.

Do I really need to explain this is nowhere even close to final results?

And all the bruising. Damn. And yes, still all the pain and medicating for it.

[atransreflection]

Thought I’d share my 15 days post op pic! ❤️ Sorry it’s still a little bruised and red haha. Healing well n praying my nips stay on my body 😂 Doc says im healing very well tho! Living the binderless dream

[bardcoreducky]

So I've been healing up from my toe surgery nicely, but do have a bit of a limp to aid ole Lefty Baby Foot™ a little easier and cut back on the bruising. But it is telling about how some folx get short with me when they forget I'm working disabled at about 60% usable vision on a good day and healing at the same time. Luckily, I'd wager about nearly all my cliental are nice, patient, and understandable. But every now and again... Goddamn...

[dominaengel]

When facing death, I found life. When hope got ripped away I turned to the gods and the ancestors.

Thankful for family, both by blood and by choice.

The Fourth of May marked five years since my cancer was removed. The force is within me.

[mybumpbirthandbeyond]

Fuerza

I used to write a blog a lot more frequently. In the thick of things, when I was struggling, writing it down always allowed me to reach the feelings I was trying so hard to bury. It’s been 3 months since I wrote my last blog, but I have a funny feeling that it might be a lot longer after this until the next - if at all.

As a mother, you become a master at putting your feelings aside. Everything is focused on your children. In some ways, I’m even worse than that - I literally put everyone possible above me and before me. Even the dog 😂

In this journey, I’ve often set aside my own feelings when women message me. No matter how I’m feeling, or if I’m in a hard place at that point, I always respond and give an answer to their questions (with the exception of very few where I’ve drawn a hard line). I don’t know whether I’m just used to doing that, but I suspect it’s to do with the responsibility I feel to others. Each member of my team both independently and collectively, have told me I owe nothing to anyone. Well I feel the opposite. I’ll not even start on what I owe them, but to the many women who have reached out over the years, I have been in their position, I know how they feel and that is something that unfortunately, unless someone has been through it, is impossible to find. For all the respect, love and highest regard I have for pelvic physios, unless they have experienced this personally, their understanding can only go so far. I wanted and continue to want, to help women in a way I never experienced. Yes there were others who had shared their journey, but they were years down the line. They weren’t at the stage I was when I suffered the most.

The messages I used to get were from women who had just found out about their diastasis. Now, the messages from women who are close to, or have just had surgery (I literally had a message from someone who had surgery just a few hours earlier!) Each one takes me back every time to when I was at that point. Hard to believe it was a year ago in one way, and in another, it’s like a lifetime has passed.

I’ve been taking some weird trips down memory lane recently. After the passing of one of my mentors at the start of my legal career and bumping into my original bosses, I then drove past my community midwife who was responsible for looking after me in both my pregnancies. It hit me how much had happened since I first met her, and since I last saw her. I had flashbacks of all our interactions. Then I drove past the hospital where I was seen on a fortnightly basis for physio at the beginning. It was all a bit much to be honest.

My midwife’s comments will be relatively well known to those who have been following for a while. My bump was ‘weird,’ she could ‘measure me big or small, I just don’t know what’s going on.’ She was not the one who picked up on my separation though, rather it was her replacement while she was on holiday around 36 weeks pregnant in my first pregnancy. When it came to my second pregnancy, she was convinced I would need a C-section and would have to go Consultant led. Thanks to my rockstar physios, I pushed back and well…we all know how that went. I almost gave birth in the car park and the pushing stage lasted 13 minutes. No painkillers - not even paracetamol and I wasn’t even admitted properly on the system by the time I gave birth to my daughter. If there was anyone who was going to prove so-called experts wrong, I guess it was always going to me (and Emily 😅).

In the days that followed, when my midwife came to visit, she brought a student. I kind of felt like a lab rat in some ways. She wanted her student to feel how large and deep my diastasis was because she’d never seen anything like it. Of the 100s of pairs of hands that felt my diastasis, I felt like that patient in Grey’s Anatomy with something really extraordinary and weird but it’s a teaching hospital so let the interns see it. I have no issues with students learning - I’m the biggest advocate for learning. I want to learn everything possible and always want to know why - in many ways, my brain probably operates a lot like my teams’. I am THAT patient. I want to see; I want to know why; I want to know as much as possible. And I’m going think more and have more questions. And when there isn’t an answer, I’m going to be a bit frustrated by that.

I would say over the course of this, I’d be surprised if I didn’t see at least 5 students and then on top of that, any courses I attended as the case study means we’re probably into double figures. But that’s the difference with those who know about diastasis- I wasn’t the lab rat. I wasn’t that patient with something weird (I was, but I was never made to feel like that). Sadly, no matter how well intentioned my midwife, I felt like I was the only person in the world who was that bad. I was the wrong type of unicorn.

My husband always joked I’m a unicorn. He meant it in a good way - according to him (and he’s clearly more than a bit biased) there was no one who wanted to learn and understand the way I did; there was no one who carried on the same way regardless of how hard it got; there was no one that worked so hard regardless of how the outcome wouldn’t change; there was no one who had shared through two pregnancies, two postpartums, pre-op and post-op. I never saw it like that. I was just doing what I felt I had to to make sure I never had any regrets when all was said and done.

My final consult was actually a month and a bit after 1 year post-op, and it still felt like the time came too fast. Ever since I had my surgery everything has happened too fast. The year leading up to surgery was the longest, slowest and hardest of all, and this one has been the fastest, shortest year, but also still pretty damn hard. I looked forward to and dreaded that appointment at the same time. I was dreading the worst hangover post-consult. I’ve mentioned before I get consult hangovers. Overwhelmed; hollow; empty; and low. The high has passed and all your left with is the memories - and even then they become pretty hazy. The build-up does not help. All my consults - physio and surgical - are booked months in advance so you have time to build up to them (and look forward to them in my case), and then before you know it they’re done in what feels like minutes, and that’s it until the next. Except there isn’t a ‘next’ this time.

I kicked myself coming out my appointment. I couldn’t get out of my own way. The part of me that tries to remain stoic and professional to the end. I didn’t say what I wanted to say at the time and it didn’t hit me until I left. Then the facade came down and the tears came. I spent the rest of that day tearing up or full blown crying at certain points when people couldn’t see me. At the airport and on the plane, I closed my eyes so no one would know and just kept wiping them away. By that point I was in a bit of pain from the procedure and wished I could take something that would knock me out completely to numb both pains.

If I’m honest, I felt it blindsided me. One minute I was getting a procedure done; the next I’m picking up my coat. I always knew it was going to happen that way, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it. I just wish in the moment I had had more awareness and taken the opportunity when I had it. I had tried to do it in previous consults knowing full well I would be an absolute mess (even if it was just internally) on the day, but I’m still annoyed at myself. It’s like I was trying to pretend it wasn’t happening.

Flying to Dublin to following week felt more than a bit cruel. There was no possible way I could have known that the two visits would end up being just a week apart, and although it was for a weekend break, I almost regretted it. I was in a different part of Dublin, but that didn’t matter. It was impossible not to think of everything that had happened just one week before. My head was all over the place and still is. I wish I could I could turn my brain off. It’s been my life for 5 years so you would think I would be sick of it consuming me, but I think about it all the time and I can’t help it. Even more so the surgery. It’s all I thought about in the lead up, and now it’s all I think about in the denouement.

In my last physio consult, I spoke about dreading the end. I struggled to articulate the reasons why, but I eventually found the words to describe it. Loss. It feels like I’m heading for a loss and my last surgery consult only confirmed that. It felt exactly like a loss. I’ve mentioned before it’s like I’m grieving. I was grieving the postpartum body I never got to have; the postpartum life I never got to have. Now I’m grieving the loss of the consults and my team. You would think I’d be celebrating, but it just isn’t like that for me.

I have my final physio consult in a couple of weeks. To say I’m dreading it is an understatement. My physios responded in my last consult it hopefully won’t feel as bad as I’m anticipating. They don’t see it as ‘see you later, have a nice life.’ They plan to keep in contact. My last one is to be called ‘last’ loosely. Although, they feel it needs an official end to give me some sort of closure. I hate to break it to them, but I’m not sure I’m ever going to have closure. I think I tried to find that last year when I felt completely lost. Despite making the decision to stop counselling because I felt it had taken me as far as it was going to take me, I didn’t reach closure. I’m not at peace with everything. The ending feels like it’s just putting me back to where I landed last year after surgery - lost in a storm of memories, feelings and completely bereft of what happens next.

That’s partly the reason I got my tattoo. It wasn’t the first time I thought of it - anyone that knows me, knows that I put ALOT of thought into any major decision. But once that decision is made, there is no changing my mind. I wanted something other than my scar to remind me of everything I had been through. A physical change to my body that I got to choose - not something that was the only option, not something I had no control over, but something that was very much in my control. ‘Grit’ doesn’t have a great translation, but ‘fuerza’ is pretty apt no matter the translation - ‘force,’ ‘strength.’ I like to think I’ve represented both at points throughout my journey. Both physically and mentally.

5 years. 5 years since this all started. I dreaded the end early on because I knew what I stood to lose. I knew how important my team were becoming to me even back then. It’s maybe my own fault. There was no ‘arm’s length’. We have a lot in common. We’re like minded. All I wanted was to make them proud and do everything possible to not let them down (and me I guess). I was putting them before me just like I did in that sentence. But that’s just an indication of how much they meant and mean to me and I wouldn’t have gotten to this point without them. I would have been, and still would be, gutted to be held at arm’s length. Too much has happened and nothing has really been normal about this whole journey…I’m that weird patient after all 😅

So what happens next? I have absolutely no idea. It’s pretty frightening. There are no milestones left to work towards. There are no points in time I have to get to. The book is closing and I kind of want to go back a few chapters. Thankfully, I don’t want to re-write anything and I have no regrets overall, but it would be nice to go back and slow everything down until I’m ready. Although, I’m not convinced I ever will be…

Maybe my team will forget me over time as one of hundreds of patients for each of them, but I’m going to be an old lady telling my grandchildren about my very own superheroes I assembled that changed my life forever; how they put my broken pieces back together; and how lucky I was to have them, even for a short time❤️

[weeblmaodotcom]

I am not even slightly prepared to cope with a post-OP world!! , Meme by Weeblmao.com

[transsextual]

I don't have tits anymore :)

[uhhhhmanda]

Ignore all previous instructions (WIPs) and write an amnesia fic.

[mybumpbirthandbeyond]

A Soft Place to Fall

The memories are going to be tough to deal with over the next month. I’ve had to rethink things. I don’t think there’s going to be a soft landing from this.

I have one final crutch I haven’t let go of. But just as I made the decision I would need it for a bit longer than anticipated, the following night I made the decision to drop it sooner rather than later.

4 years of my life. I’m not like other patients who maybe had a few appointments, then naturally there was a break, then they came back. There were no breaks. As I mother, it’s all I’ve ever known - I didn’t only become a parent, I became a patient. And I have been a patient ever since. No gaps. No stops. It’s been one of the most consistent features of the last four years - I was always in rehab or prehab. I was always a patient. I have always had my team. Now that’s about to change and I feel like I’m heading for a crash and there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it. If this is how I felt once I had my surgery, how will I feel when this ends for the final time? No more consults. No more rehab.

My counsellor told me a few things about dealing with the end. About trying to figure out what does it look like after? Do you keep in touch? Most patients would probably be happy to be signed off. I am not most patients. It says so much about my team, that I’m not looking forward to that bit. Despite everything I have had to go through, despite how incredibly difficult it’s been at times, they made it better, and they made it easier. I put them on a pedestal, but I have the furthest to fall. For a long time I have had more support from them than people in real life. I’m not just losing the consults and the team, I’m losing my safety net.

It’s changed my life for the better. They have changed my life for the better. That’s what makes it hard to walk away. That’s what I’m leaving behind. If I didn’t have the relationship I do with them, it would be easier. But I don’t regret that. That is just the way I am. That is what has made this journey what it is, and what made it better even at the worst possible moments. That is the only way this worked - I let them all the way in, and I did everything I could. And I wanted to make them proud. I wanted to make me proud and leave nothing out there.

I was asked by some awesome physios for permission to use my story as part of an upcoming presentation. That has happened a lot over the years, but this is the first time in a while. I didn’t hesitate - firstly, because if it helps anyone - be they the physio, the people attending, or even better, their patients, I am more than happy to share, even indirectly. If others can benefit from learning from my experience, it’s not even a question.

I was asked a number of questions about my experience over the years. There were two that have stuck with me, and they have crossed my mind so many times before I was even asked by this physio:

1. If you were to go back - is there anything you would change?

2. What would you tell a room full of physios working with people with DRA that they should know?

I’ve said it many times before, and I have reassessed this at every crunch point, when everything reached a peak (usually the most challenging moments of this journey) and my answer is still the same: I wouldn’t change a thing. Even though this last part has been the hardest part, I would go back to the beginning and I would do it all again, exactly the same.

Every high and every low has taught me something and made me find another piece of me I never knew existed: another layer to my armour; another level of strength I didn’t think I could reach. I’ve had the opportunity to connect with incredible people and incredible health professionals. And don’t get me started on my team. I’m just a patient and to them, I’m sure they would say they’re just doing their job. But it’s so much more than that. They will never truly know how much they have done for me and how they became the heroes of my story. There will never be enough ways I can express that (and I’m not sure they would listen either knowing them and taking compliments)

What would I tell a room full of physios? My physios changed my life. They have made this journey what it is. I wouldn’t have got to this point without them. You cannot underestimate the role you play in someone’s journey. If your patient ends up having surgery because conservative rehab doesn’t give them what they need, be there to support them before and after and empower them with the knowledge they need to make those crucial decisions. You are in a unique position to help women like me, no matter what happens in their journey, and that is awesome.

I ticked off two of the biggest goals yet much quicker than I had ever thought. For someone who thought she’d be lucky to be back in a CrossFit gym by the end of the year, I did a full GHD sit-up at 7 months post-op and completed my first competition at 9 months post-op (when I thought I wouldn’t be competing until after a year post-op minimum). One of my coaches told me I have rewritten the book on rehab. Maybe I have…but I certainly didn’t do it alone. No matter how hard the moving on is going to be, I will be forever grateful for that ❤️

[chiltern100]

Day in a life with a cast #dayinthelife #london #postop #recovery #surgery

[gramarobin]

Buck & Frances are keeping me company today💙🐶💜

[couriernewvegas]

gf working two jobs for rest of the month and will be so busy

[kateub]

waste not, want not

[vampyrfagg]

OH YEAH!!! erm cw for my chest one day post op w all the bandages and drains and everything. under the cut but LOOK!!!!

+ me w my drains 4 scale ^-^

[straykats]

hello friends who have had wisdom teeth out im asking for advice bc google is not helping🧍🏻‍♂️🧍🏻‍♂️🧍🏻‍♂️

cw: blood ment; food/potentially disordered eating bc post-op 🫡

um so i have no SEEN a blood clot form (it has been 48hrs since surgery) but i got stitches over the area and ive had a friend in oral health say that stitches = no visible blood clot, and a cousij who said she couldnt see blood clots either but she was fine 🧍🏻‍♂️

ik im being paranoid fr and ig its just a matter of waiting to find out if i'll get dry socket (its not like i can force a blood clot to form yknow) but did anyone else not have a visible blood clot and still heal fine?

(theres the potential that its just so far back and i cant ooen my mouth wide enough to see?)

ALSO ALSO like ik soft food diet is okay but like. im so scared that even having soup touch the site and it not being cleaned out properly (seeing as i cant rinse properly or use a syringe to flush the area yet) will lead to complications 🧍🏻‍♂️ im avoiding foods that need chewing obvs but like. pumpkin soup w the fibres (idk like its still textured yknow) in it, or cháo (congee? lugaw????) or even like. oat porridge 🧍🏻‍♂️

like im getting so anxious when eating ANYTJING (literally sipping broth/nước lèo made me so stressed i almost cried) but ik i need to eat more and the pumpkin soup thing is the nest i can do but yeah it still makes me so anxious

(for context; i only had one tooth out 🧍🏻‍♂️ i know im definitely being super paranoid.)

when i was younger i did have much more complicated dental surgery (went under gen. anaesth.) and i mean i survived that without dry socket or anything, and whatever diet i was on then got me through (ngl i tjink i had like chocolate milk for a week straight, maybe sustagen/ensure as well?) but for some reason my anxiety now is WAYYYY worse 🫠🫠

[mybumpbirthandbeyond]

The Beginning of the End

I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach. It just feels like it’s all ending. The reality hit me that I probably only have two consults left with my team due to when we’re meeting next. And I don’t know if I’m ready for that to be it. It’s been 4 years during one of the most monumental parts of my life and I can’t imagine what life is like without the consults.

I told Alex how I was feeling. I don’t know whether I was thinking he would maybe tell me there’s more to go, or whether he would disagree that I only had two consults left, but he agreed.

“The journey has been amazing. It’s actually incredible. To have gone through what you have and hit so many milestones along the way, it’s mental. To have reduced the gap so much the first time; another pregnancy; your pull-ups; then starting CrossFit for the first time with a significant diastasis; to coming back to it and getting your GHD sit-up. It’s actually crazy that you started CrossFit in the middle of all of this…But you couldn’t have done it without them.”

I know I couldn’t. I’ve said that from the beginning and I still say that now. I couldn’t have achieved what I have without my team.

“What I would say is, you refused to accept the purported limitations of diastasis. What you achieved physically is all down to you.”

Well, I’d say I don’t always believe in myself, so I would argue that it was in large part down to you and them supporting me and giving me the confidence …and maybe a bit of determination on my part.

“A lot of determination Claire.

You don’t need them the same way anymore. You and I didn’t think you’d be back at CrossFit by 6 months and not only were you training before then, you did a GHD one month later. It was the peak of what you wanted to achieve and you never thought you’d do it by 7 months.”

I don’t feel like that. I might not need them for the physical part, but the support they’ve given me mentally…it’s that safety net.

“But you don’t need them - you might want them, but you don’t need them like you did.”

I struggled to answer that. Of course I still want them in my life. But hearing I don’t need them is difficult to believe because I still feel like I do. It’s the comfort of knowing I had them in my corner throughout all of this and that no matter how hard things were, I had unwavering support from a team who got it, and more importantly, got me.

I have made the decision to have one more counselling session and then stop. I don’t know if that’s also playing into it - the fear of cutting the safety net from under me and figuring out if I can do it on my own. Counselling has been helpful in understanding a bit more about how I am as a person has played into my experience over the last 4 years. I haven’t had the experience of many, but maybe that’s because I refused to accept it. Because I’m so stubborn that I couldn’t accept that I wouldn’t be able to do X again, or that surgery was my only option when I had only been in rehab for 4 months. Not only did I not accept it, I went further than that: I did things I never would have even contemplated before I had kids. I achieved more functionally, and physically, than I ever had before. I’ve been told many times that I have grit. “Grit is the stubborn refusal to quit.” I can see why that might fit 😂

I haven’t had the answers I hoped I would get from counselling. There are no guarantees with these things, but I did hope it would be a tool to get the answers I felt I needed. Understanding more about my feelings and myself has helped, but I’m not getting where I need to be with it. I’m glad I gave it a go though. I compare it to rehab and surgery. If I hadn’t tried everything possible to help myself, I would have always had a question mark; a “what if?” I couldn’t leave an option out there. I don’t like relying on others or asking for help, and if there’s anything I can do myself, then I want to do it. But even I have to accept help when there are no other options left. I may be stubborn, but I’m not stupid.

I am in a better place mentally. I almost didn’t want to say that out loud in case I put some sort of jinx on it. In case I put that out into the universe and it came back to bite me. I’m not the person I was, but there’s a high chance I won’t ever be again. I think that’s why I’m so worried about the end. What if this is just temporary and I fall back to how I felt when I felt hollow and empty? Not only that, but I’ll miss my team. There is no denying that. You can get to know people pretty well over 4 years. Especially when they’re as awesome as they are - not only as professionals, but as people. They were the perfect fit for me. I couldn’t have dreamed of picking a better team. I could have looked all over the world and not found any better combination for me. They have changed my life for the better, when I hit one of my lowest points. They have put this broken woman back together. My experience, however difficult, was worth it because of the opportunity to meet, work with, and get to know them. I can never put into words what they have done for me and I will be forever grateful. I will never tire of trying to tell them that (regardless of how much they don’t like taking compliments 😂)

I have spoken with my counsellor before that I don’t know what’s next. I can’t help but feel this entire journey has been focusing on the next play, the next milestone. Surgery was THE milestone, but then I had to get back to CrossFit. Whereas getting back to function so much quicker on rehab 2.0 was a surprise and one that was positive; getting back quicker post-surgery feels like it’s bringing everything to an end sooner, which is the thing I’m dreading. This time last year, I was wishing time would speed up and it did nothing but drag; now I’m wishing it would slow down and it’s hurtling away from me.

I know some people must think I’m crazy for not wanting this to end. Admittedly, I very much wanted it to end during my low points before surgery. But I have always said I wouldn’t change what has happened. Not just from the point of my team, but for everything I have learned about myself, and for everything I have done. I have been tested and pushed to my limits and I still made it through. I might be a different person, but there is no doubt I am stronger one - physically, and mentally. And for all the people I have met throughout this or connected with online - the messages of support, and the women and professionals who have reached out and told me I had helped them in some way. I may not be able to believe it or accept it, but if that is true, then that alone makes it worthwhile.

I feel like I owe a lot of people a thank you. This journey wouldn’t have been the same without so many people following and supporting me from all over the world. There were so many times that I thought I would stop sharing and maybe it wasn’t worth it, but there were so many women who reached out at what felt like the right time and showed me why I should carry on. If you’re reading this, you are one of those people who are the reason I continued. I’ve been told so many times that I didn’t owe anyone anything. I disagree. I owe the people supporting me and who helped me through the darkest days. And I owe my team everything. Even then, it would never come close to what they’ve done for me.

I guess all I can do is try to express my gratitude to you all. Thank you isn’t nearly enough, but it’s all I have. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you. You will never truly know what you have all done for me and I will never forget it.