He kisses me softly before leaving to walk the dog.
You're going to be fine. I've been praying to my mother.
Yeah? But you don't believe in any of that stuff.
No. But I believe in my mother.
Since week seven is hugely taken up buy my surgery, I have scheduled this to post shortly after I go in. I am as prepared as I can be, work was overly organized and ready for my two-month absence since Saturday. I've updated the will, added beneficiaries to the necessary bank accounts, and ordered a pre-need cremation certificate as well as the footer at the gravesite I purchased a year and a half ago. I prefer to think of it as prepared versus morbid. I have, if nothing else, always taken care of everything, for everybody.
I'm not sure why I'm so nervous about this surgery. While big, it should go as planned. My surgeon is excellent and has done countless ones over the last 20 some odd years. Maybe it's the unrest at home, the stress of Youngest's turmoil, or being away for four days. But there's no going back now, right? A necessary evil of getting older, you can't just let things go forever. My condition is triggered by stress, so I have had a few touch and go days, one of which was excruciating.
But life goes on, and the dog still needs to be walked. So regardless of how slow I was moving, the dog and I meandered around the pond, a blessing for her I suppose as her arthritis is sneaking up on all of us. I took several deep breaths, soaking in the nature around me, the silence, trying to feel some semblance of comfort with everything going on. As she sniffed what had to be her hundredth pile of leaves, I looked down and saw something weird.
What kind of rabbit poops in perfect circles?
Upon closer inspection, it was not in fact rabbit poop, but a long-forgotten bracelet, most likely from the summer.
How long have you been praying to your mother that I'll be okay?
The past three days.
Maybe Mae made sure I found this to give me comfort. Maybe I have angels watching me. Maybe I'm just in good hands. Maybe the plan is still unfolding, and it is bigger than I can imagine right now.
Maybe I'll just count down from ten, fall deep into the anesthesia, and let it be what it will be.
Oh Juli - I have been thinking of you all day! By now, I'm sure the surgery is complete and your are recovering. I think Mae and the angels are watching out for you and that you are in good hands. I think even without all the outside stresses, this surgery would still be nerve wracking. Sending love. xo
ReplyDeletePlease update when you can. Even a couple words. Hope everything went well. Sending hugs.
ReplyDeleteI would take that find as a really good sign! I hope to hear good news from you soon. You were much more prepared than I had been. But then I don't own much, want my ashes spread somewhere pretty, and gave Dagan and Leah power of attorney--so I had covered my bases when I was diagnosed with stage four cancer. And I just got good news--so I am praying you will have some wonderful news and some good fast-as-possible healing, too. Much love!
ReplyDeleteAll, I am alive. They expected to remove 3-6 inches, and instead removed 18. So, I'm home, healing slowly, desperately wanting to throw my temperamental computer at the wall. :)
ReplyDeleteWho says a few inches doesn't make a difference? Geez.
ReplyDeleteDon't throw your computer at the wall. You might hurt yourself.
Wait until you're all better and you have a new computer and THEN throw it at the wall. I'm glad you're alive. :)
Wow. Sorry I missed this earlier. I read the last post first, so let me just cram it all here. And that all is, for one, that was the best rabbit poop you could have found. I don't know how you come through all that you do (none of that, "I have to" bullcrap, a lot of people break under a lot less), but I do know that God found pretty much the only person who could fit into your niche.
ReplyDelete