Today I showered by myself after a long night where I couldn’t get comfortable and, eventually, ended up sleeping on the couch. (I might have to stop telling Eric how much I hate that stupid couch if it’s the only place I can get comfortable enough to sleep… maybe. I still hate it.)
I worked for the first time since I was in the hospital. Sure, my job is posting content to a blog so it isn’t like I was out digging ditches or anything, but still, it was a step back.
Also, my network of people who I’ve set up to remind me that I am NOT going to die during surgery (which is an irrational fear, yes, but try telling my stupid brain that) are doing a great job of texting me randomly to let me know it’s all going to be fine.
And the most amazing breeze is blowing through the open window next to me reminding me that even if I do die during surgery (which I won’t) I have a perfectly wonderful life which is more than I ever deserved and if it ends tomorrow or August 26 (which it won’t) I have nothing to complain about. (Except that stupid couch.) Lucky, lucky me!