So, I’ve been home from the hospital for a little over a week now, and one thing is clear. My goddess, I’m an antsy person. A first class fidgeter.
I’ve been joking about this with my cousin, since our late grandfather was a notoriously jumpy guy and I’m clearly his granddaughter. The apple that fell from the tree can’t seem to sit still, either.
And recovering from surgery kind of demands, as my cousin told me, to “get the ants out of your pants”. Or something like that. The message was to just sit back and relax and sleep and snooze and let your body heal. Be a good patient, damn it.
I’m doing my best; I really am. I am tired and I am sitting back and relaxing and sleeping and snoozing. Really.
And for as wiped out as I feel, I still want to “do”. I’m a maker and I have this innate need to create things. I had all of these great, grand plans for my recovery time, too. I picked out fiddly, intricate knitting patterns to keep my mind quiet and yarn in colors that would break your heart. I looked at crocheted tablecloth patterns where the hook required is only slightly thinner than a toothpick and three days’ worth of crocheting would yield a piece only slightly larger than your smartphone.
None of it is working. I don’t have the patience or the mental sharpness right now, and that’s as it should be. Hey, major surgery, right? Cancer, right? I’m supposed to be tired and taking naps with the cat on my lap, not fiddling around with elaborate knitting techniques.
But the hands still want something to do and the mind needs to be occupied and I’m all fidgety and I want to make something, just not anything that involves a lot of thought or concentration or color changes or exotic cast-ons involving flying fingers and multiple knitting needles. In other words, the crafting equivalent of a bowl of really good
As it turns out, it’s exactly what the doctor ordered. I pawed through my yarn stash and found just about enough for one and ordered yarn for the other. I chose patterns that won’t get all cranky if I nod off with my yarn in my lap and drop a couple of stitches. The colors make me smile. And when I’m all done, there will be two lovely afghans just waiting for someone who needs a nap.
The complicated stuff can wait for another time.