Good Morning! Was getting up this morning as tough for everyone else as it was for me? I had overdone it a bit yesterday so I needed some pain pills last night. While they help me sleep and chase the pain away, they end up giving me some really strange dreams, and I wake up a LOT overnight, positive I just slept 8 hours when it was really 45 minutes from the last time I checked. So I was awake before the alarm this morning, but that didn’t mean I was happy about it!
All things considered, we had a pretty OK Labor Day weekend. Friday’s surgery was pretty routine. The doctor found a lot of scar tissue that was the source of my pain. He did NOT find any new endometriosis, so there’s hope I won’t need to do this again for a while. Once I got home, all I could do was sleep though! I spent most of Friday half conscious, waking up just enough to start the next episode of Numbers on Netflix and fall back asleep. I got out of bed and went to get the mail-Nurse Duncan was NOT amused. He started howling at me the second I came back in the house! I stood there and tried to talk to Jeff for another minute, and he kept advancing and howling at me. I go back to bed, he follows me in, positions himself between me and the door, and lays down with one eye on me. Apparently my dog knows what’s good for me better than I do!
We did manage to get out of the house and out to dinner Friday night, since I was blissfully NOT nauseous from the anesthesia. I kept it simple and just had a soup, a delicious salad, and a few bites of Jeff’s pappardale. We got some chocolate and salted caramel cake to go and were in bed by 8:30. Poor Jeff had to get up at 5 with me to make it to the hospital on time and he did NOT sleep all day like I did, so poor guy was OUT cold after our dessert.
Most of the rest of the weekend, I was keeping a balance between pain pills, doing too much, napping, and repeating. I just get super wiped out after surgery anymore. It’s really the most lingering side effect of the whole thing, which is hard for me to deal with as a normally high energy person. Being laid up for a few days really does give me a chance to kind of examine my life-where I am, where I want to be, is what I hold important REALLY what’s important? It gave me a lot to think about.
When we were at the coffee shop this weekend, I got in some good people watching. Lately, back to school has been all over my Facebook feed, kids holding the magic chalkboard to document what grade they’re starting. And maybe I’m in an extra introspective mood, but it got me to thinking. When we’re little, we’re just discovering what we’re good at. We try everything (except broccoli). And more often than not, it’s our parents, our siblings, our classmates who determine what we stick with. When our interests or talents veer into the uncool, they’re all quick to let us know-and we stop. It’s all about finding what you’re good at-as long as you fit in with the crowd. We spend the first 18 years trying to find our talents within the bubble of what’s socially acceptable, and the rest of our lives trying to get back the individuality we stuffed down.
I’m ready to find what I love doing again, whether it’s blog worthy or not. I can remember deciding to go on my first diet at age 10. I was always super conscious of my body and that dictated what situations I’d put myself in. I wouldn’t try most sports because I was uncoordinated, slightly bigger than the other girls, and did NOT like attention. In junior high, I stepped out of my bubble and tried to pay volleyball, basketball, cheerleading. None of them went over well and I got teased a lot. It just reinforced my body consciousness and how I felt about myself. Makes me wonder about all the fun I missed out on because I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin.
I’m not a wonderful chef, but I have good instincts and I’m a fair to good baker. I would be good at knitting if I could sit still long enough to finish something. I am a terrible artist, but some furniture design and DIY has been catching my eye lately. I’m not a fast runner, but my propensity for masochism and a good dose of sweat make it one of my favorite things to do. Maybe it’s time to quit apologizing for everything and try things without fear-even if middle school Laura would get flamed mercilessly for it. I told myself a year ago that once we got married, I’d be able to devote entire weekends to whatever struck my fancy. Get an urge to read all weekend? Go for it! Want to try and make your own tomato sauce? Have at it! I forgot that along the way because I got so fixated on living my life in order to see a certain number on the scale. Will anyone remember that I weighed XXX and was in the middle of my healthy weight range when I die? NO. But maybe they’ll remember how I was always quick to gift some comfort food, a cute craft, or some time walking together to hash out whatever is bothering us. Life’s too short to restrict yourself so you fit in everyone’s box of where they think you belong.