Looking better, does not mean I'm better.

"You look great."

Best and worst words ever to a recovering patient. This is the line between actually looking like a functional person and being a functional person.

One of the hardest things to do right now is maintain an organized conversation that is continuous and makes sense. Naturally, that is what everyone is asking for at this point; insurance, disability, and even the office personnel at the doctors office. It's a neurological office, I just had brain surgery, explaining what that means to a very young intern is so frustrating.

"Can you answer some questions for me today?" (imagined head bop with ponytail bouncing.)

"No, I can't because I will speak in garbled English and incomplete sentences. Send me a letter, an email, even a text and that is loads easier. I can take my time, reread it as needed, and reference it when I get lost. Conversation, you have got to be kidding."

This is my imagined answer. My real response is along the lines of "What? Um, I guess I can try."

At this point I am starting to look like myself, my hair has grown to cover much of the scar. What I get are a lot of people confused why I don't have it together. The impatient sighs are audible when I attempt to interact in public. Pushing a shopping cart or parking close to the entrance, I often get irritated looks or even dirty stares. When alone, the only ones to make eye contact are also using assisted devices and the looks are along the lines of "You've got this, sister." We smile in sympathy as the rest of the world races by and then we move on with our day.

At one of my appointments I met another physically challenged person, about my age, his was a work accident. "Jim" has a fused back and it is difficult to walk. (I thank God, mine is neurological and I have hope for improvement.) He routinely gets dirty looks because he is now able to drive but must use handicap parking. Jim has been yelled at, talked to, and even lectured about how awful he is for using handicap parking. Jim looks normal, he has worked hard to get away from his walker and cane. What right do people have to judge that since he looks well he must be better?

I still use my walker for long distances or unfamiliar locations. I am still a fall risk. But I hope that as I work to move forward, you all will be patient. Looking better does not mean that things are all better.

Side note: You would not believe how long it takes me to edit each blog. Writing, I can talk about the things I deal with that others may not be able to express.