Poured myself a nice Willamette Valley red and settled in to type up my answer for you. But behold! What is this? Lucky! Lucky me! I found a fully composed post from January in my drafts folder. Just waiting patiently. Why didn't I send it back then? I was looking for pics to embed, but I was also concerned I was wandering down Poor Me Avenue.
They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. (Groan.) So reading it back, I like the post a lot more now and and the content remains super current and strangely, quite factual, regardless of being written six months ago. So read on ...
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I am so over 2014. In the last days of the year, I kept repeating to myself: I just want this year to be over. Which I thought was strange. Why was this mantra bubbling up? Oh that's right. There was a hideous speed bump that made me smear my lipstick and dump coffee all over my white shirt. In reality, I didn't mind having surgery. With the whole orchestra assembled, I rather liked the symphony we wrote together. But I am done.
How am I? Good. Fine. Well. Happy. No seriously. True story.
I've got a few microscopic issues in the big picture.* I am dealing.** No worries. It's really my team at work who reminds me most often, ya know Annie you've only just had like, heart surgery. I am not kidding when I state, it has slipped my mind totally. Let's rinse and repeat: it has slipped my mind totally the vast majority of the time.
Weird. I know.
* LB'S. As in pounds. As in, our community took such good care of us and delivered deserts. Like the Madagascar animated movie sings: You've got to move it, move it! You've got to move it, move it! I feel like I am trying to kick start a vintage car in the winter. Come on baby! I've gotten a lot of kind comments to the effect of A) you look great or B) you don't need to worry/be concerned with that. Two answers A) gained 10lbs since the surgery. Not healthy. B) yes I do. I did not just do all this for not. I literally can't fit into most of my size 10 stuff. I am now trolling my larger 10's or searching in vain for any size 12's we didn't throw out. (Note to Amber: we did to good of a job weeding out the wardrobe. (Aug15 Update > No more trying to fit size 10 and went ahead and purchased new size 12. She quietly weeps. She really does on the inside.)
** Getting my blood checked weekly. Yes, still. the test is checking the thickness of my blood per the meds I am onI take off early Monday's or Thursdays because of the ultra convenient lab hours of Monday (or Thursday) 10-11 or 3-4. The annoying part isn't even the prick. Its the fact that my blood levels we check with said test are not leveling off. Usually folks advance to monthly labs after 6 weeks, then quarterly. I am well beyond this 6 week mark. They tell me its about consistency. As in what I eat and drink. We all know that isn't my strong suit. I am still up/down/left/right/now-go-side-to-side (in your electric side voice). The folks I talk to to at that drs office are well, not into the concept of customer delight. (Aug2015 Update > Yep. Still testing. This part totally sucks ballz.)
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| "refuse to sink" get well bracelet wise words |
There are deeper feelings that are too big to process. For example, this statement: Our family has a lot to be grateful for in 2014. Hardy har har. As in, mega understatement. I literally can't process the gift of good health I've rewarded myself with.
When we saw friends over the holidaze, it occurred to me how I must appear. No detectable changes except slightly rounded, sparkling personality intact. You might see my pink scar peak-a-boo you over the lip of a shirt. You likely won't. So you wouldn't know. So if you randomly see me and I'm like, it ain't no thang man. I do honestly feel that way. All I keep coming back to is how cool advanced medicine is. Diamond Dave and the team all told me how routine this was, and they were right. It's just I had so much more at stake going in which heightened the drama vs the average grandpa or grandma late life repair.
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| my absolute fav bill, evah |
I had promised at some point a look back at the actual experience. I did want to record it for myself so I did not forget. Memories. But they are already fluttering away to be locked inside and not dealt with. I have some pics to look back on, Tom's posts from the hospital and my before and after blogs.
Circa August 2014. I cobbled this collage from the hospital room together as it paints the picture of my memories for that fateful week. I was stuck in a room for 6-ish days. Not much to see. That TV remote was evvvvverything dah'lings. By the end of the week I was in my own jammies/slippers, sitting in a chair with my feet up. But apparently I was high and taking selfies within two days of being out of surgery. Oh Annie. Enjoy the look back.
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| point of view as patient from the hospital bed |
