I think it’s interesting that Mrs. Lion is focusing on how to maintain some level of our domestic discipline in the face of my recovery. I think she’s on to something. I generally get really grumpy when in pain and impatient with caregivers who I perceive as not paying enough attention to me. Time seems to stretch when I hurt. Waiting just a few minutes for a glass of water feels like an eternity. My mouth feels parched and I’m sure that I will die of thirst if I don’t get that drink soon.
Rationality just goes out the window. Mrs. Lion’s current theory is that she can snap me back into reality with a growl. She proposed a plan to track infractions and good behavior using pennies. It makes sense. I don’t think that I will care one way or another about whether I am gaining pennies or losing them while I’m suffering.
Of course, if Mrs. Lion reminds me of future punishment or reward frequently enough, whether or not I’m into caring about the actual outcome, I’ll probably enjoy the game. The big question is whether Mrs. Lion will grow weary of both me and the game.
My concern goes well beyond mere pennies. I worry that my lioness will exhaust any emotional capital I have with her and will just avoid me. After all, she’s human and has a finite amount of patience.
You see, I worry about both of us. Do I really have the strength to suffer through the difficult healing and physical training that follows this sort of surgery? What will happen if I do run out of patience? Will I try to disappear in a drug-induced haze? Or will I lose control of my emotions and lash out at the one person in the world I can trust with my life?
I’m starting to think that the key to my survival centers around distraction. It’s hard to be in a lot of pain when something is fully occupying your mind. Boredom is probably a greater risk than physical discomfort. I can only take so much of daytime television. Even though there are a million episodes of “Law and Order”, I grow very weary of watching for hours at a time.
I realize that I have an amazing array of choices when it comes to movies, books, or magazines. Between my iPad and Netflix, there’s no end of available content. The problem isn’t content. It’s just how long I can stand not doing anything other than watch TV or read. Hell, I’m getting bored listening to myself whine about this.
What’s a lion to do? That’s a serious question. It’s the whole point of this post. I’m not going to become a drug addict as a way of escaping. It wouldn’t work anyway unless it put me to sleep for two or three months.
I just can’t come up with a good reason to go through with the surgery. Yes, I really need this operation; but I wonder about my ability to emerge whole after recovery. There are just too many ways I can get lost in the months that it will take me to recover enough mobility to lead some semblance of my old life.
Yes, I’m whining. My doctor said I could. The thing is, my problem is not the fear of the unknown. It’s the sure knowledge that the painful period of loss of functionality will push me to the very edge of my ability to endure. I think I have a lot to consider before that preoperative visit to the surgeon next week.