Saturday, November 26, 2011


Sick day: On the couch, but in good company

Spent much of the morning at the doctor with what I thought was just another sinus infection. After suctioning my ear canals (yes, it's as gross and painful as it sounds), scoping out my sinuses, and ordering several x-rays, it was confirmed that I have "a deviation" in my left septum and some "childhood tissue" remaining in there. (I'm no medical expert, and the doctor is French, so that's about the extent of my understanding at present.)

The doc prescribed an antibiotic for the time being, but I have to call back to schedule surgery to remove the excess tissue. Apparently it's a simple outpatient deal, but I'm a total wuss when it comes to anything medically-related -- just ask the nurse who had to inject me before I left. It was all hand-wringing and attempted yoga breathing on my end. (Which, as it happens, is exactly where she stuck that needle -- right in my rear. The doctor said it would help with swelling? I don't know; things are weird here). 

The rest of the day has been spent on the sofa, drinking tea, and thinking. All that rest has me feeling a little better, though my head's still pretty scattered. I'm having trouble transitioning into what I really want to say, the reason I started this post in the first place, namely:

thank you.

The comments, emails, and messages I received after my last fear post were so uplifting and supportive, it truly knocked me out in the best possible way. So to anyone that wrote, called, or commented: Once again, thank you.

Interestingly, all of the responses I got were from women. It was like the universe swelled up to counter the viciousness of the girls in my memories, and to help me paint a new picture of what female relationships can mean and be. And I don't mean to get too chintzy, but I felt like I'd hunted around in the darkest part of myself, only to emerge holding a lifeline of shared experience and support. The connection to something so much greater than myself was unbelievably apparent. As I let my old ghosts go, I found warmth and light waiting to replace them.

I also found the world's best husband, my perfect fit, who, when I was curled up in ball feeling vulnerable and clutching my stomach, climbed right down beside me and wrapped his arms around me. 

I closed my eyes and listened to his heartbeat. 

That was the night after publishing my fear post, which had left me feeling more exposed and wounded than I was anticipating. I didn't need help or advice, just processing time -- enough space and minutes to fully let the feelings pass. In these instances, Andy's so incredible at finding a balance between being there and letting me be. He is steady and gentle. 

I only hope I can be so good in return.

Thanks again, friends (I think I can safely use that word now). Until next time.