So Thankful

It occurred to me yesterday that the activity of recovery from surgery is so time-consuming that it leaves no room for the self-pity or sadness I thought I'd be dealing with. I think I am very fortunate to have hit my nadir during the anticipation of the surgery, rather than after it was done.

I am just not horrified at all by the look of my body as I thought I would be--the reality of it is more of a curious observation that "Oh, that's not so bad after all!" Bill says that to him, it just looks painful for me rather than revolting to him. For me, there is no more of a disconnect than say, when I'd catch a glimpse of myself naked in late pregnancy and wonder "who is that [misshapen whale?] in the mirror?" The picture I have of myself, that odd thing called body image, hasn't been damaged at all. I wonder why, but in any case, I am grateful for the selective delusion--I still hate my flabby tummy and my sagging chin when I see them, but in my mind, I don't think of those as part of my idea of what I picture myself as looking like in total. I still feel quite beautiful, whatever exists in the mirror or reality.

Dr. Brenin called last night to say that they are still working on the pathology. I do love that meticulous-cautious approach, but I am impatient to know what the next step is. Do we get to complete the reconstruction next week or be plunged back into despair over needing radiation after all? Yes, I want continued positive news! Let's keep this ball in the air!

Bill is out in the woods this morning, one of two days this week that he is allowed to hunt bucks or does with a black-powder musket. My own Natty Bumpo, out getting meat for the freezer.
Life does indeed just go on (unless you are a deer, presumably).