30 DAYS

Today is my 30th day post-op. It's an important milestone for us Chinese, a day when one who underwent surgery is supposed to have completed the most critical period of his recovery - the first month afterwards.

I do feel good. But ironically I've experienced more headaches this past week than during the days immediately following my surgery. I think this is because we started weaning myself off the steroids beginning my second check up roughly nine days ago. So the swelling is probably less artificially controlled and hence the headaches. I feel a general ache whenever my head hits the pillow but it disappears once I stand up so in that sense it's actually very manageable.

Some other things I've noticed:

1) My neck tires a bit more easily. This is to be expected I guess. My neck muscles were cut during surgery and then sewn back together so structurally they are now weaker. Like a concrete post that cracked during an earthquake, no matter how much you try to patch the concrete it probably ends up less strong afterwards. I understand they're fixing the Bay Bridge in the San Francisco Bay Area these few days, and it's probably exactly the same principle; no matter how good of a job they do, I doubt if it'll end up as strong and as sound as it was before it was damaged.

2) My right arm seems weaker. To be more accurate, my right shoulder seems weaker. I am less able to lift and extend my right arm with speed and confidence. I have no idea if this is related to the surgery or just from all the non-activity; but it does provide a convenient excuse for all the jumpers I will miss in the future.

This said, I do wish to emphasize that my surgery went remarkably well. The chap below, John Kelly, had surgery to remove a 4cm AN and ended up like this:
You can read his story here or his blog here. Know this: it is NOT just a matter of vanity, when you lose control of your facial muscles, it leads to very real health issues. You cannot voluntarily blink, so your eye is open even when you're asleep. The eyeball begins to degenerate, and you have to resort to taping the eye shut. Read John's November 25 entry in the Guardian to have a better idea.

I hope I can be 100% "normal" soon. Last Tuesday we took Steffi to Trinoma upon her request to ride the "yellow car". It's actually a two-seat mini-simulator. Like the one that used to be at the Shangrila Mall and like the RIALTO at Enchanted Kingdom, except instead of an entire theater sized thing it's in the form of an amusement center ride and can fit only two people. Makes sense, less overhead, less capacity costs. Anyway, I do not know if it was just my imagination, but when we were at the mall I thought I saw in Steffi's 4-year-old eyes some confusion: "This papa of mine is the biggest, strongest man I've known since I was born, the problem solver, the fixer of all broken toys. Why is he now the weakest, the slowest?" I do not want her to get used to the thought that her dad is handicapped.