Saturday, April 30, 2011

Where I talk about fake schlongs and my kids in the same post...seriously.

My sisters left this morning, pulling away in a huge Escalade-looking truck from the Golden Limo service. I am a blubbering wreck. For the past week they've been here helping out; cooking great meals, hanging with my kids, doing laundry, but most of all, providing an amazing amount of emotional support. And so now I sit here, feeling every bit as afraid and worried of trying to do this on our own as I did when my mom said goodbye after David was born. The worst part is, I couldn't even give them a proper hug goodbye.

This surgery and recovery has been a lot more difficult than I anticipated, not only from the pain and healing perspective (which is immense) but also from the emotional perspective. On the pain/healing side, I feel like I have a Rhino sitting on my chest, one of my medications has given me a hivey rash, and I'm still shuffling around like an old lady. On the emotional side, I think my new rack looks about as realistic as Mark Whalberg's prosthetic schlong in Boogie Nights. My sisters keep reminding me that this is a process, that this is a different state of being, that things have *changed* and that I am going to have to deal with it on a deeper level. I think I forgot to factor that into the equation. I think I didn't really realize what it was going to be like on the other side of this kind of surgery. As Nick says, it will become normal, not right away, but it will.

So my kids are great and adapting. Ava hugs my legs because she can't stand not to hug me. David rubs his head on my arm like a cat. They both deal with it when I am crabby and are only slightly alarmed when I get teary. Poor Nick got the flu the day I was in surgery and has been dealing with being sick the whole time plus everything else. We have moved Ava's birthday party to another location next weekend (fairy/jumping/bouncehouse/unicorn/cake/party). It's all about adapting at this point. Things are going to be fine.

I keep trying to figure out a perky way to end this note but it's not coming to me. If we could just get a peep of sun today, that would rule. That and a shower. Oh, yes, I get a shower today! And maybe a latte from Morgan & York. Hmmm. See, things are already starting to look up. Love to you all.

Update #1: I took a shower and golden light fell from the heavens. Seriously. Sunshine and hot water. Nothing better for a mood shift.

1 comment:

  1. Much love to you Fran. If I were there, I'd supply lattes galore.

    Just remember now, you're on the UP side of the curve. It will be hard, but you are healing, hon. You are doing awesome, and your family loves you dearly.