it's all happening

Feather Poppy about to bust out

So yesterday I sat down with my boss and let her know about the surgery next Wednesday.  I presented it as a Good News, Good News, Bad News scenario: Good news that I won't have to be out all day this Friday for epidural #3, Good news that I'll be having surgery next week, Bad news that I may be out for 6 weeks.  She took it really, really well, and this morning we're meeting to talk about where my various projects stand so that she can most effectively bring in a temp to cover while I'm out.  And even if I am able to come back sooner than 6 weeks, we may hang on to the temp anyway, to ensure we have enough coverage, in case I can only handle a part-time sched and to help us, for once, maybe get on top of things, maybe even <dare I say it> get ahead.

In a way, this is like a dream come true: having this much time off.  I recognize that it's not a vacation, but it's such a relief, to think that I will finally be able to slow it waaaaaay down, to sit outside and heal, to do some real physical therapy when surgery and first part of recovery are done.

Wow.

I feel a little like this poppy up top, like I'm going to be able to bust out in a way.  Almost as though starting from the moment I awaken from general anesthesia, which truly is like coming back from the dead or perhaps emerging from a blank nothing, I have a chance to begin again, to take better care, to do it, everything, better.  

I'm a little giddy and a little petrified, but mostly giddy.  I don't want to make any plans or have any expectations for those six weeks.  All I want is to get better, to be out of pain, to begin to feel strength in my body again, to get those muscles back to work.  

So glad.  So relieved. So looking forward.

Shirley Poppy, showing me the way