This week started off with a lot of hope and preparation. I had an important government appointment early in the week, and while everything went relatively okay, something about the whole experience completely threw me off. I left feeling drained, a little deflated, and – honestly – that mood stuck around for the rest of the week.
The timing didn’t help either. It’s the Easter holidays here, so both my husband and son were home – which naturally changed the flow of the week. The three of us had originally planned to take this week and the next off for a trip to Austria. Mountains, fresh air, the full “spring escape” fantasy. But thanks to my injury, those plans turned into a stay-at-home reality featuring laundry, takeout, and the occasional vacuum soundtrack. My husband still took this week off, but ended up cancelling next week so we can save the days for an actual vacation once I’m back in one piece. And while I had a few things scheduled and mapped out (because yes, even on sick leave, I still try to stick to a system), most of it went straight out the window. Again.
One thing that did stay on schedule? The Room Project.
Let me give some background: I’ve been offering to help my son clean his room for ages. Always refused. Then during the last school holidays – Fasching, I think – he said he’d do it himself. Spoiler: he did not. That break came and went, and the room stayed firmly in its chaotic, don’t-open-that-door state.
So last weekend, I gave him an ultimatum: this Easter holiday, it’s happening. That’s when he looked at me and said, “Okay… but I need your help.”
Of course he did.
So I scheduled it for Friday – because, again, I have a system. Certain things on certain days. And Friday became Room Rescue Day.
Now, when I say “clean,” I don’t mean a little tidy-up. This was a full-on excavation. We’re talking dust, lost cables, mysterious objects, packaging from who-knows-when, and the kind of clutter that makes you question everything. Honestly, his room felt like a living archive of teenage life.
We made good progress on Friday – or more accurately, I did. My son focused on sorting through his high school papers (which, to be fair, was a task in itself), while I cleaned pretty much everything else. Dusting, organising, folding, deciding what could go, what should stay – the usual room transformation magic. We even tackled his closet and got his clothes sorted out, which felt like a major win.
By the end of the day, he had a big box full of papers he wanted to shred – we even bought a shredder just for that. It was already late when we finished, and he asked if we could continue on Saturday. I told him no – I had other plans for the day, and honestly, I’d already done enough.
But of course, when he needed help the next day because his desk setup wasn’t picking up a strong Wi-Fi signal, I helped him rearrange things. We shifted some furniture, adjusted the layout, and got his space working better. The room is now mostly done – just waiting for him to do the shredding. Any day now. Hopefully.
In between all that, I still tried to keep the house in a semi-functional state. I couldn’t follow my usual room-by-room cleaning routine – my body wouldn’t allow it – but I did what I could. My husband and son helped too, which made a difference. Still, I found myself getting frustrated with my limitations. It’s hard to sit out parts of your own routine, even when you know you have to.
I also skipped all my online German classes this week. I felt guilty about it – I really did. But I’m still on sick leave, and part of me knows I need the rest. That said, I couldn’t completely disconnect from the language. I’ve been active on Duolingo (yes, I know… classic), and I’ve somehow convinced myself that getting into the top 3 of my league will make up for everything else I didn’t do this week. I went from rank 13 to rank 5, and now I’m quietly aiming for the top 3 – because apparently, this is who I am now. It might sound silly, but having that tiny language app leaderboard to chase gave me a weird sense of purpose this week. I just needed to feel like I accomplished something – and for now, that’s it.
By the end of the week, I was tired – not just physically, but mentally. Between the mood dip early in the week, the unpredictable rhythm of the holidays, and the sudden bursts of productivity followed by necessary rest, I felt a bit all over the place.
Oh – and on the health front, I had a doctor’s appointment on Thursday. I told him about the occasional numbness I’m still experiencing, so now I’m scheduled for an MRI next Friday. Before that, I’ll need to get some blood work done on Tuesday – they’re checking my Kreatinin and GFR levels to make sure my kidneys are okay to handle the contrast dye, if they end up using it. Just another box to tick on the recovery to-do list.
So no, it wasn’t a big week – or a particularly restful one. But it was full of little things. Some movement, some stillness. Dust, definitely. Guilt, for sure. But also food, support, and a few good laughs in the middle of the mess.
Two more weeks to go before my official sick leave ends, and just as I thought I was slowly settling into recovery, I’ve started coughing again. Every cough feels like a jab straight to my back – a not-so-gentle reminder that healing isn’t always a straight line. My doctor told me to come back and see him after the MRI next week. He also stopped the Ibuprofen for now, though I’m still taking Novaminsulfon (I keep forgetting the name, but at this point, it’s part of the routine).
I wish I had something deeper or more profound to say – something inspiring to wrap the week up with – but maybe this is it:
Healing takes patience.
Progress doesn’t always look like progress.
And sometimes, just showing up – to clean a room, cook a meal, laugh at yourself, or rest when you need to – is enough.
Next Sunday, there won’t be a new personal post from me – it’s the last Sunday of the month, which means it’s time for another Featured Story. I’ll be sharing a thoughtful, honest piece that I think many of you will relate to.
I’ll be back the Sunday after that with more updates – how these final two weeks of recovery unfold, and of course… my son’s 18th birthday (still trying to emotionally prepare for that one).
Let’s see what the next couple of weeks bring.