One Year Anniversary

One year ago today, about this time, I was going under anesthesia.  I was shaking-nervous and my pre-op nurse who was as old as the hills (or older) didn't make matters any better; her eyesight was so bad she pulled out a magnifying glass to fill out my paperwork, then immediately afterward put the magnifying glass down and was like, "Now let's start your IV!"  After getting horribly bruised I requested she find someone else to to do it.  Then she gave me narcotics after I told her they do bad things to me, and I thought I was going to die before I even got to the operating table.  Then she used latex even after I told her I was allergic...

But enough amusing tangent.  This post isn't about Nurse Ratched.  This post is about a year.  A year of being pain-free. I called Bekah this morning to thank her for doing my fundraiser, then unexpectedly began crying on the phone.  (How can I ever thank her enough for doing that?) When I think about the decade and a half leading up to surgery...when I think of all the pain I pushed through, sometimes ignoring, sometimes trying to fix...when I think of the despair I warded off for 10 years that finally caught up with me in 2011...when I think of all these things, I don't know how I ever got through my 20s.  I actually broke down crying really bad yesterday thinking about it; God, I never want to go back to that place.  I don't know how I did it; I could never do it again.  I am so terribly, terribly grateful not to be sick like that anymore.  The annoying little maintenances, like not eating gluten or like going to PT, are small potatoes compared with the pain and dread and hopelessness I suffered (and tried to ignore) for so long.

I've been realizing something else this summer: I no longer know myself.  I think I mentioned in a recent post that my mood is far more stable than it ever was. This is because my hormones are balanced since I no longer have a thousand little estrogen-makers living on a diseased colon. I don't freak out about things like I once did, I don't get angry as quickly, and I'm (generally) in a happy mood.  I think...all that energy I used controlling my moods and reactions - what can I do with that now?  I want to grow into this healthier me; I want to live well and do things well and feel things well. There are differences in my life that some would consider minute which are, in fact, huge.  Like, I can go months without journaling; I used to not be able to go half a week without it.   It may not seem like much to a non-journaler, but that's how I used to process my life.  I...I don't know, I somehow don't seem to need it anymore.  Who is this new me?  How do I interact with myself?  How do I interact with God?  With others?  With my family?  I don't know yet.  With only a year in this new body, I haven't had time to figure it out.

Yet I press on, full of gratefulness to God, my doctor, and everyone who helped me through surgery via prayers, money, and emotional support.  It has been a good year.  I look forward to the years to come.

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I got this tiny little potted rosebush a year ago today:

She is now over three feet tall!