I am forever saying that. One step at a time.
And that is how it is now, today. Except I put a bunch of steps together to walk around the block. Slowly. Gingerly. Deliberate.
Yesterday, I was still groggy from the anesthesia. I walked around the house some, but mostly, hung out on the recliner. One of my new neighbors brought a quiche, another, pumpkin muffins and then the flower delivery person stopped at our house.
All of which made me feel good, remembered. And all of your nice greetings of care buoyed me, too. I apologize for being remiss in answering each one, but I did read them.
As I mentioned, the gall bladder surgery was gaffe-free. Oh, you know how I said I had watched YouTube videos on the surgery? On those, I saw four incisions. When I got home, I only found three, but yesterday, I found the fourth. And none of them were in my head.
Did you ever notice how young doctors, nurses, pilots and other professional people you deal with look? I think my anesthesiologist just turned 16. It is a whole, new generation out there running the world … except the two running for the presidency.
I am not sure of what the liver biopsy found … hopefully, nothing. The surgeon did say my gall bladder was in bad shape, worse than they thought. Like my liver, it had fat around it, too.
What I was thinking when I was in pre-op, and when people came in and out to check things, I remember thinking, yes, I was a bit anxious because I was going under and things can go wrong.
But I also thought how lucky I was not to be wondering if they were going to find cancer, or not. And that is what many people are thinking about while waiting for their surgery. I would have had a different level of nervousness if that were the case.
I was really just grateful to be getting that stinker out of my life and getting on with things.
Things. What are the “Things” of life? Did I make any bargains with God this time? I don’t think so. I did make a bargain with myself, to get healthy.
It wasn’t that I had a bunch of “big things” that I wanted to get back to. Just the piddly stuff of life … without feeling sick most of the time.
That is really all there is to it. I just want to feel better. And I think that I will.
What amazes me is seeing how many people there are going to doctors, getting surgery or treatment of every different kind. Most of us have something wanky that we are dealing with.
And it just isn’t old farts. There was a young girl across from me. I saw her crying. She had the same nurse as I. I mentioned to the nurse that the young girl was crying and told her to go take care of her. I was fine.
She had had knee surgery. She was crushed.
All ages. Good people. Bad people. Thin people. Fat people. People who are considered, “Normal”.
We are all born and we all die. Some of us have a lot of life in between being born and dying.
Some people, don’t.
If we look around us, probably not too far, either, we see and know people who have struggled with or are now struggling with, physical and mental health issues. Very few people get through life unscathed or unmarred.
What I love is that the people that I know, keep on going. We laugh and cry and carry-on. We console and kick each other in the butt. We make quiches and casseroles and pumpkin muffins and say healing words of kindness.
Not to mention, that there is a big world of health care professionals who give their expertise and care on us.
One day, most of us will receive a diagnosis or prognosis that we don’t like.
Or, we might drop dead.
Until that happens, I intend to enjoy my piddly things and go one step at a time.
This morning, I looked at our bushes that have blooms on them. I saw Knock-out roses still full of color, and walked by a tree that was a soft, lovely, shade of orange. I breathed in deeply, just for fun. And I dusted my end tables with glee.
Just because I can. Because I am alive. And because it all made me joyful.