Lazy Days

While so much of the country is baking in heat, we're experiencing pleasant days and chilly nights. Walking around my neighborhood after dark I see neighbors relaxing around fire pits. The air feels like fall. It's easier to be laid up when the weather isn't summer hot. I hate being stuck in the house with the AC blasting, but the raging heat and humidity we often get in July and August is tough to take, too. We got very lucky this year.

I spent the afternoon lazing in the dappled sun on the patio with a glass of iced tea and a good book. That's pretty much my idea of a perfect day. Colorful birds visited my feeder while Thumper, our resident bunny, nosed around looking for treats. He didn't go home disappointed - Diva tossed him some carrot pieces for his lunch.

So much time on my hands. Too much time to think.

Insomnia

My days and nights are all turned around. My patterns are wonky to begin with, since I'm a night shifter in my "real" life. But now, with no need to watch a clock and no rhythm to my day I sleep when I feel like it, eat when I feel like it, which isn't often, and watch TV the rest of the time. In the morning I have a follow up at the hospital; if all goes well, I should be able to resume some activity. I wish I could get some sleep. I want to be bright eyed and alert at my appointment in five hours. I want to show the doctor how well I'm doing, so he lifts my restrictions. Funny thing is, thinking about how I need to sleep is probably what's keeping me up.

Back Home

It's over, and I'm home. Things didn't go as well as they could have, but I'll be fine in a couple weeks. Walker has the next few days off to take care of me. I think he has some golf on the agenda, too. My mom brought over dinner tonight. She even cleaned the kitchen afterward. Gotta love the family.

Prepping

When I was a kid, my mom spent a week in the hospital. Thirty some years ago, that was the norm after surgery. I remember her preparations: shopping for nightgowns and robes, buying travel sized toiletries, scheduling rides to and from her medical appointments, and, of course, making arrangements for my care while she was gone.

When she got home all the neighbors brought over food, candy and flowers, and magazines. She spent the next several weeks in bed, recovering. We moved a TV into the bedroom for her, and I brought her meals on a tray. We got her a bell to ring if she needed me. My aunt came over to help my mom with her grooming. My sisters did the grocery shopping, laundry, and yard work, while I tried to keep the house clean and made the meals. That fall, I picked out back to school clothes from the catalog and my mom ordered them over the phone. When the orders came in, my mom still wasn't allowed to drive so I borrowed my sister's backpack and rode my bike downtown to pick them up, paying with my mom's store charge card.

It's funny how much has changed. I doubt I'll be getting any meals on a tray after I get home. My neighbors aren't aware of my upcoming surgery. There's already a TV in our bedroom. I'll be back at work, full time, before the end of the summer. I could be home from the hospital less than 24 hours after I check in, if all goes well. I didn't bother shopping for robes and nightgowns, though while I'm running errands this weekend I might look for a robe. I'm considering an iPod, too, though I doubt I'd use it enough to justify the purchase. I ordered some books from Amazon.com and I bought a carpet sweeper light enough for Diva to use on her own so she can help keep the house neat. I made up menus of grillable food for Walker.

All that's left is the waiting......

Counting Down

It's less than a week until my fibroid surgery now. I can tick off the days on my fingers if I want to. I've been very self indulgent lately - sleeping in, eating whatever I want, ignoring, for the most part, my house and yard work. I'm nervous about this surgery, but at the same time, I'm anxious to get it over with, to get on with my life. I'm tired of looking pregnant. I'm sick of wearing maternity clothes. I want to be able to sit on a patio at a restaurant and enjoy a cold beer without getting dirty looks.

I wish I didn't care about dirty looks and other people's opinions but I do. I wonder what people see when they look at me. I got tired of answering people's questions so I just started keeping to myself. Think about it: there is no graceful way to tell someone who just asked about your due date that you aren't expecting. The minute the words are out of your mouth the other person is burning with embarrassment and heading for the nearest exit. This whole experience has been very isolating. I'm ready to join the world again.

What I'm Reading Now

We Thought You Would Be Prettier by Laurie Notaro

Two thumbs down on this one. I can't even think of much to say about it, except find a better way to spend your time than reading this book. The author shares little snippets of her lift that mostly fall short of funny. Her mom sounds like a trip, though. Perhaps Ms Notaro should write a book about her.