medical leave day 20: how are we? what are our options?

so how are you?

we don’t really know…………………..

however we are aware of the acceptable options: particularly on day 20 of medical leave.

the appropriate responses are as follows:

a. Much Better Thank You

b. Getting There

c. Still pretty weak (“but relieved because they were benign??” as if that’s the only acceptable feeling now. Um, no. There’s no room for relief when one feels weak. One just feels weak, love).

d. Not Sleeping (furrowed brows greet this one “aren’t you Over It Now?” Er, clearly not. We apparently contributed to this concept of Perfection prior to the surgery and hospital stay. Well, that’s out the window now. What a bloody relief)

No.

we’re not. We are not Over it.

It’s been over two weeks, yes, since our throat was slit open, our glands removed, vocal chords smushed and sore and thus no voice, thyroid taken out, 3 – THREE – tumours/tumors/Tobias and his Sisters cut out and sent to the LAB and we’ve been popping the 21 calcium pills (now down to 4 a day) and adjusting to life where one opens a plastic (shudder) bottle (“on an empty stomach” which is hard when one fancies a little morsel of aged cheddar while the coffee is brewing) and takes a hormone which mimics the thyroid function For The Rest of Our Life…………we digress

we don’t know how we feel.

It’s been overwhelming as an experience.

Nor are we particularly interested in soothing the feelings of others (yes, That, darlings, is New). Or putting up with other people’s drama. (No energy and actually zero interest. Make a plan and stick to it. It’s so much nicer.)

we went out this morning with the lovely GB who is in town and got some air, some sunshine and saw friends and there was a shared autumnal (delicious) salad and a roasted veggie (yum) soup.

then suddenly we got tired again and here we are – writing to you – because we like writing to you – back against the voluminous amounts of pillow and a satin wrap artfully tossed at the end of the bed.

we’re going to have a nap.

and then read a little.

Here’s what we Do Know: the land of the unwell is a strange and wonderful one.

It’s a land where one can take time to answer the following questions, all in the comfort of nothing but one’s (large baby blue with a fleck of brown in one iris) in case you’re curious) eyes and nose peeping out from the pillowy depths.

1. Is this how we want to live our life?

2. Do we have the best of friends? And how can we care for those friendships best?

3. Who really didn’t show up? And how can we politely but firmly make space in our lives by carefully distancing ourselves for people who can?

4. Are we living in the city that makes our heart sing? (Are we living in the country that makes our heart sing – and do we have a choice – yes, the canard of immigration will soon raise its ugly head as we apply again for Advance Parole – yes, that’s what they call it – so comforting ;)

5. Do we relish each morning with the tasks ahead a joy – or dread them?

6. What can we change?

7. What can we ask the Universe (insert any other magical concept you like but make it BIG enough to be GLORIAous) to help us/show us/do for us?

So no. We don’t know how we feel (and it’s sort of irrelevant and changes like the wind anyway).

But we sure as hell are getting answers to the questions 1 – 7 ;)

And That, darlings, is Utterly Divine.

We like that bit Very Much.

Illness has liberated us.

Watch out.