It’s been 6 days since my surgery. I’m still a little confused as to where my thoughts end and where the thoughts of my pain meds start.

I’ve spent the last six days in a fog, sleeping, watching movies, sleeping, sitting and staring into space, sleeping. Yesterday was a big day because I was finally able to see well enough to return texts, emails and facebook messages. And today, here I am writing in my journal!

I wasn’t prepared for the toll this surgery would take on my entire body. I had planned sort of a “Club Med” resort experience, where I sit around in my quiet, kid-free house and read books while friends bring over delicious meals and my gorgeous husband caters to my every need.

Some of that is true. My kids are gone, my husband is gorgeous and he is catering to my every need. My friends are great cooks, but I’m either nauseous or not hungry most of the time. I have a stack of books waiting to be read, but I can’t focus well enough to read them.

And then there’s the pain. It’s sneaky. Sometimes I see the light at the end of the tunnel and sometimes I wonder how my body will ever be able to total recuperate from this beating. I wonder how I will ever be strong enough to face the reconstruction surgery.

I have two friends who take turns coming over every morning and every evening to tend to my wounds. When needed, they also tend to my heart.

I take great comfort in knowing that I am not the first woman to go through this, but I’m also saddened to know how many more will walk this path, perhaps without the support system that lifts me up daily.

I’ve asked people to take over for me and do acts of kindness on my behalf while I’m recovering, but I think loving on others may be part of my rehabilitation. I need to press on with kindness even on a miniscule scale, if nothing else, to remind myself that it’s not all about me. Everyone has pain, everyone has scars, but everyone also has the ability to move the focus from themselves to others. We all have the ability to be kind, and there is no pain that can touch that kind of medicine.