I’m a fast paced, impulsive person. To those of you who know me well this is no surprise and I’m sure it even comes off in this blog (hello attacking my paparazzi in Tottus), so let’s just say that recovery and all this “taking it easy” is harder than it looks. I’m not really the kind of person who can veg out easily. I like to be up and active. A normal day for me consists of very little down time mostly because I don’t know what to do with myself.
I’m wondering if half of my superhuman energy has to do with the fact that I’m still on some very potent steroids to take down the swelling in my brain. That’s the reason I’m able to exist on sleep that wouldn’t suffice for even a gerbil, and I’m breaking out and eating like a 16 year old. Oh, also I tend to be a liiiitle more angry emotional. Fortunately, I’m on a sliding scale and I’m definitely running down the steroid hill at this point soon to be off of them. The only part that concerns me about that is that my unusual energy (my doctor thinks I’m some sort of brain surgery miracle) is that I might actually be tired. Then, I might have to calm down this pace and actually rest.
Right, so I’m not out running marathons or anything. I still get a little tired walking up the stairs and around the corner, but I’m doing things that other neurosurgery patients might not be doing mere days after being discharged like: shopping at the mall, going out to restaurants, getting lost in public bathrooms, taking *large print* books out at the library, and going to the University of Minnesota Arboretum (so I sat on a bench in the shade a lot….I had a good excuse!).
It’s hard because I have so many plans now. Like. So. Many. Plans. My entire perspective on life seems to have shifted. Nothing seems impossible anymore. Nothing. All those little things that used to hold me back? Gone. Things seems clearer. Relationships are more important and my goals have an entirely new meaning. Sorry. I’m not trying to get all Hallmark card on you, but it’s true. It’s one of those things I think about when I’m busy not sleeping at night.
I’m excited because on Monday I have a doctor’s appointment with my neurosurgeon to remove my “sutures”. Bear in mind that I have hardly even looked at the back of my head. I did take a good look once and saw that I have quite the gash (a good six inches down my skull) full o’ staples and other “hardware” and it honestly made me feel a little weak. That’s why L. and my family are such saints because they have to rub me down with antibiotic ointment (I love using the word ointment….ointment…ointment…ointment!) once a day. Bleh….
I heard a rumor that I have a plate of some sort in my head now. I wonder if that means I get one of those medical cards to bypass the metal detectors at airports. *fist pump* You know the ones they give to the little old grannies who have more metal in their hips than box-spring mattress? Yes, well they are not just for old ladies anymore…
My friend M. told me the other day that I surprise people because I look so freaking healthy, but I’m pretty blind still and well, get confused in bathrooms for crying out loud. I’m sure that’s what the woman who I barreled into today thought. Or the people at Caribou Coffee who were eyeing the IV bruises on my arm like I was some sort of addict. Or the guy today who made eyes at me in Target, but I had no idea I was even looking at him until he was right in front of me. Seriously. I have no idea how long I sat there stupidly gaping at him because I couldn’t even see him.
And now before I bore you with more possibly steroid induced ramblingd, some photos from the Arboretum today. I managed to get a little sunburned (another possible thing to check off of my post-surgery to-do list).
Okay… and I won’t even take credit for the photos. Add that to the long list of reasons why I will miss L. when he leaves: he takes great pictures.
I got so many flowers while I was in the hospital but most of them did not end up coming home with me because my cat has a plant addiction problem. Yeh, he eats them and then vomits in a corner. It’s one of his more attractive qualities. So, being around color was amazing. Oh and I can see the flowers. I Love hibiscus. I have no idea why. Like I said, I did a lot of sitting on benches in the shade, but L. managed to snap this of me in motion. I have to keep something on my head at all times just as much for my scar’s sake as for not scaring the rest of the public. That hat was sooo hot, but I am wearing the earrings that I told Deidre from Decoy Betty about when she sent me a darling red scarf all the way from AUSTRALIA! I love the blue of this one. It looks perfect against the reddish pink (that is reddish pink, right?) of these. Oh and I don’t even remember what these are called (brain tumor moment? You decide).We saw a timid little cardinal. L. followed him for a few feet because we told him that cardinals are usually very shy and this one seemed to want his picture taken. There was a pond with tadpoles and baby frogs. What is cuter than a baby frog? All green, and tiny, and slimly. (Yes, I was one of those children). In the same fountain a group of tadpoles had started masticating the body of their tiny tadpole brother. No picture for that. Apparently that’s how frog families work. Fun. I love this last one with the bee. I’m terribly allergic to bees so I was nowhere near this flower, but what else can say summer besides an image like that? There I hope you have enjoyed my rantings and Arboretum slide show. I think it’s probably a good idea if I retire now to stare at the ceiling try to sleep. Good night! Or Good Morning if you happen to be waking up in Australia…