On Friday we measured my healing process again. I would have posted about that on Friday, but the first week back at work wiped me out. I was too tired to process how I feel about my progress, let alone write coherent sentences.
Last time we measured, I’d healed a full centimeter. This week, I also healed a centimeter. Assuming my healing process stays consistent, which it is expected to, I will have the Bellysucker 9000 with me for another 4 weeks.
I’ve been told that that kind of healing process is amazing, that I’m doing spectacularly well. I’ve been told I should be very pleased with how things are going. There are people who spend over a year going to the healing center and never have more than a millimeter a week of healing progress. I’m a fantastic healer.
I talked with a friend who had a post surgical wound open up and he said it took him six months to heal up what I’m expected to heal in four weeks.
I wish I felt pleased. I feel like if I were so damned fantastic at healing, I wouldn’t be hooked up to the Bellysucker 9000 right now. I feel like an ingrate for not appreciating that some people wish they healed like I do. Parts of my belly scar that closed properly in the first place are already starting to fade back to normal.
It’s not that I don’t feel grateful. Obviously, there are people who have it much worse than I do. I understand that, but I just feel like it should have already been over. What the hell is wrong with me that I opened back up in the first place? But there’s really nothing. Just me lugging my noisy vacuum pump along with me as I’m trying to settle back into normality, only there’s no normality when the vacuum pump is chugging along arhytmically because there’s a tiny leak in the bandage I can’t find to seal off.
If it were rhythmic, I could let the pump fade into the background. It took me three pieces of extra tape after I got home to find the leak this time and get it sealed up so that the vac runs silently for the most part.
I had to find it. The noisy thing was keeping me from sleeping. I got it calmed down enough to drift off after two pieces of tape at 2:45 AM. I shut the damned thing completely up this morning. Well, mostly. It will always have a little bit of catch up because while the tape is good, it’s not hermetically bonded to my skin. The idea even sounds painful.
Monday, when we change the bandage next, that’s when the hunt for leaks will start again. It seems like it’s always something. There’s a difference between lying on a bed in the Healing Center while they’re changing the dressing and moving around in daily life.
At least I can move around and start really having my daily life again. Some of the people who are being seen in the wound center don’t have that ability yet. They’re bodies are only giving it back to them a milimeter at a time.
I wonder if this qualifies me as having a real super power?