This is my misery face.
I bought my first house in 2003 in Bernal Heights in San Francisco, and it was an active construction site, walls torn down to the studs. I got a small amount of money when my grandmother passed away, and it was just enough to put in a real kitchen, one I designed on my own. (Prior to my time in tech, I was a professional chef for about ten years.) My grandfather was in the USAF as fighter jet pilot; at one time, the family was stationed in France and my grandmother got a degree from Le Cordon Bleu while she was there, in Paris. Mimi liked to cook and she did it well. Her diploma is hanging on the wall in the kitchen in my house.
Just after my first surgery, in January 2004, I was stuck on my back on a hand-me-down big green couch (in JT’s living room, second floor, in a house on the same street about five blocks away) for six weeks. I went for short walks every day first with help, then a cane. I took vicodin three at a time and periodically had to drag myself to the bathroom to throw up. After two weeks I realized it was doing nothing more than making me sick. I stopped taking it though I continued with the ativan and valium to get through the first few weeks. Slowly, strength returned to my left leg though the numbness in my shin never went away.
The Green Monster was my nemesis.
Any type of exercise was out of the question. All I could do was drag myself off of the Green Monster (couch renamed), stand up, go down a very long flight of stairs, get outside, and walk; and then hobble back up a very long flight of stairs, and ever-so-gently sit myself down on the couch. That was all I could do. Consequently, I gained 30 pounds.
In March 2004 — three months after my first surgery — I went back to work. A very nice fellow converted my desk to an adjustable one, so I could (theoretically) take turns standing and sitting. I kept my chair but I knew I would’t use it. I couldn’t sit for more than a few minutes at a time.
I felt like I was just marking time, waiting for something — anything — to change. Am I going to be stuck here feeling shitty for the rest of my life? I was miserable.