May 31: On the Other Side of Surgery

At this writing, there's about a half hour left of May 2022, and then I flip the calendar to June. I still have a large paper calendar, a planner, and use Google to keep my appointments. As many squirrels as I have racing through my head at any given moment, it's a necessity. I guess living in two centuries, there is one Birkenstock sandal in hard copy and the other flat in the electronic counterpart. (*shrugs*) 

So, as you may or may not know Grizella the gall bladder was evicted on Cinco de Mayo. They still won't give her back to hurl against the wall, so I've settled with breaking plates in the driveway.  I highly recommend plate breaking. Make sure to wear proper eye goggles to protect the eyes. Even better after breaking the said plates, place the larger pieces in a box covered with a towel and pound them with a hammer. Pummel them into tiny pieces. Since the plates are different colors, I'm saving the tiny pieces to use when creating garden stones for the memory garden. I won't break plates too often, because Steve is a cautious human and gets twitchy when his wife engages in activities like plate breaking or fire starting in the cauldron. (Remember, he's the domesticated one, I'm mostly feral.)

Overall, I'm feeling better. The surgery wasn't what I expected. I didn't expect the extreme pain I had waking up from the gas they used.  I didn't expect the allergic reaction and the itching 8 days later. I didn't expect the surprise pain on my left side and the additional visit to the ER in search of heart trouble or blood clots (thank goodness they didn't find any).  I wasn't expecting the four wounds on my torso to be as prominent and to heal slower. I didn't expect this surgery to force me to slow down and reflect on what's important.

I believe this experience has changed me for the better and looking forward to June 20 when I can turn the page to another chapter, a new chapter, when my body is supposed to be healed, the weight restrictions are lifted, and I can mow to my heart's content. I'm grateful, though, to be on the other side of surgery. 

At this writing, the time is now midnight. It's June 2022. I'm going to finish this post, go to sleep, and wake up to a new day. I hope yours is meaningful.