So, today it’s on with the business of living. Time to start moving forward. I leave the neighborhood for the first time since the surgery.
One, to go get blood work done to make sure my hormones are going down like they should. Also, I meet with my internship supervisor this afternoon to iron out details. My dad is coming up today, and we’re going to the state fair this evening. I will be experiencing the fair through the vantage point of a wheelchair, since long walks still cause my incision sites to hurt like crazy. Though I suppose this is sort of a turnabout is fairplay, since three years ago J and I pushed my dad in a wheelchair around the fair after his cancer surgery at Mayo.
Today is also the first day I’m wearing something other than pajamas since my surgery last Friday; also the first day I’ve actively fixed my hair and put on make-up. And I wish I could say it felt good; mostly it feels sad – with a taste of defeat. No miracle is occuring; denial opportunities have passed. The nightmare is reality, and now I go on with my life. It feels like carefully packing up dreams into a box and storing them away in a dark, abandoned closet.
While putting on make-up this morning, I had flashbacks to surgery day, and the doctors and nurses who kept commenting on how awesome my eye make-up was – even after the crying and waking up in the recovery room after surgery. (The trick is eye make-up primer and Urban Decay’s make-up setting spray). All I could think while people kept saying nice things was how much I didn’t care what I looked like in the light of my circumstances. Which is sort of odd – because I remember feeling a need to look cute that day as I asked my sister to take a picture after the ultrasound if things went okay. Needless-to-say – no picture occurred that afternoon.