
<p class="wp-block-paragraph">Captain&#8217;s Log stardate 9/22/22 </p>



<p class="wp-block-paragraph">I wish that I could drop a captains log right about now. It has been 4 days since my surgery in a cruel twist of irony the bidet I was so excited about sits unused in my bathroom. Apparently, whatever Tom Cruise scientology stuff they do to you for a surgery screws up all of your bodily functions. It&#8217;s weird. My stomach has become some sort of extra dimensional portal like I am eating a lot, borderline gorging on easy hand-held foods like burritos and pizza. Yet I never feel full or bloated. Where is it all going? When will it come out? WILL it come out? This paradox vexes me a great deal. I only hope I am near my bidet when it happens&#8230;</p>



<p class="wp-block-paragraph">Life is hard. Life is extra hard when your dominant hand is useless. I am surprised I can still do somethings relatively easily; however, some mundane things have become exceedingly difficult. Like putting on pants I have to twerk and stanky leg them up to my hips then drop it like it&#8217;s hot til it&#8217;s up to my waist. Screw buttons I&#8217;m just gonna look like a bum for the next few weeks. My choices for clothing include shorts with elastic bands, cutoffs, and super baggy Hawaiian shirts. Basically my normal ensembles. My already swole arm is wrapped in 15 pounds of bandages so normal sleeves can&#8217;t handle all this girth. I&#8217;m not allowed to take this stuff off or get it wet until my follow up appointment. My wife will get to live her dreams and anoint my body in oils and soaps but I gotta say my arm is probably gonna rot off I&#8217;m really concerned it&#8217;s going to end up like Chris &#8220;take my strong hand&#8221; Elliot&#8217;s in scary movie 2. </p>



<p class="wp-block-paragraph">The pain. The pain is pretty constant it&#8217;s not like an overwhelming pain but it is throbbing I guess it feels like you&#8217;d expect to be cut open and filleted out. I would like to think I have an exceptionally high tolerance for pain but my wife still makes me do stuff so apparently I&#8217;m a wuss for complaining. I&#8217;ve always been a strong proud independent woman and now needing help to put on socks just makes me feel useless. </p>



<p class="wp-block-paragraph">The depression. Something no one ever really talks about is what this kind of stuff does to you mentally. Normally I am everyone&#8217;s superman but here I find myself needing help more and more. You would think as time goes on I would be able to cope better. Yet everything just seems to be getting harder and harder growing more dependent on people each day. The guilt of not being able to help people like I normally would plus work just kicking the shit out of me while I am down has left me a husk sulking through life. I am eternally grateful for the ones who have stepped up to take as many of my burdens from me as they could. You really see who has your back when some life altering shit like this happens. </p>



<p class="wp-block-paragraph">One thing I&#8217;m not sure how to feel about yet is I&#8217;ve got some one else&#8217;s tendon grafted onto my own. Like another person is inside of me&#8230; Who were they? How did they pass? Were they a good person? Will my arm suddenly become possessed and start murdering people like in that one movie? Is that a valid defense in a court of law? So many questions! Life has a funny way of throwing you curve balls sometimes I guess it&#8217;s all about how you react to it. Gonna go try to drop a captains log again. I&#8217;ll keep you posted!</p>



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