Sunday, March 27, 2011

3-27-11 Breathe. then Breathe again.

Serenity now. . .  I've been teaching myself to get into the habit of deep breathing at least once every ten minutes. It is incredibly relaxing. And one of the things I've been really working on is finding "happy places"  (see picture above) to cope with the incredible stress of this upcoming surgery, added to house showings \ selling the house, work, graduating son, daughter on highly dangerous  medication, college prep, the list seems insurmountable sometimes.

So, I breathe.

Deeply and slowly, feeling the air fill out every inch, imaging the tiny little alveoli swelling up huge and round, and then, as slowly as I'm able, to exhale all the stress and fear and anxiety about, well, everything . . .  surgery, health, kids, jobs, house, all of it, just to let it all out in that breath.

We got home to find Fisher had yacked up cat food right by his bowl on the stone floor in the corner and Faith had left a present upstairs in the corner of the family room. Fabulous. I'm sure they decided to do this the minute the house was vacant, so that every showing while we've been away has grossed out every looker.


I'm really stressed about putting other people out during my recovery. I tell myself to get over it, to be my own advocate about what I am going to need, and to let someone take care of me for as long as I need them. But it's easy to say and really hard to do. Six weeks for recovery. That idea alone makes me break out in hives. Then I read other womens stories who didn't listen, did too much, and ended up back in the hospital, some of them back in surgery, from internal bleeding. Their rushing things lands them in the months of recovery "don't do what I did" stories. I've seen how much cutting, bleeding, and suturing is involved. I now understand why the findings of a growth that is highly vascular is so worrisome. The whole stinking organ is vascular and connected all over the place to other things that also have to be clamped off, cut, and sutured shut. I am being gutted like a fish. And hoping that's all I have to go through.


So my vacation away from home is over and the next week will be filled with work and school and garage sale prep, shopping and cooking and laundry, trying to prep the house for post surgery when I can't bend or lift anything, possibly more house showings when I have to stop everything else and go sit in the car with my laptop and dogs and wonder how any of this can possibly go on after my surgery.

And even then, the best thing I can do is surrender it all in prayer, to breathe deeply, and be continuously thankful for life, and love, and family and friends, for memories and hopes, and let that be enough.


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