Thanks Doc, It’s Been Real

I like to think that I’m a polite person. I’m always minding my please and thank you. Pleases and thank yous? Well, whatever it is, I’m doing it.

And that is why one year ago today, immediately after waking up from surgery, I proceeded to shake my surgeon’s hand and thank him for a great surgery. Or so I heard. I wish I had been lucid enough to remember that because, damn, do I sound like a badass!

I owe a lot of my current life to that surgery and I suppose that’s to be expected. After all, hearing lung surgery, the natural reaction is probably more like ‘Um, a lot of your life? How about just life. Period.’ But it never really felt that way, both looking back on it now and at the time. For me, it never really seemed that serious because, for the most part, I felt great. Except for those weeks with pneumonia. Those were terrible. Thank God for orange sherbet ice cream. Oh and whatever I did to my ribs when I fainted. Those were some dark times too. I have never wanted to sleep so badly and been so unable to do so.

I spent quite a long time in the hospital when I really think about it. Mostly because they couldn’t immediately identify what was wrong with me. That probably should have scared me. Or at least make me worry. But it didn’t…because at the time I felt fine. I will openly admit that I had a case of the invincibles: I felt good; therefore, nothing bad could actually be happening. Plus that’s what parents are for. And to be perfectly honest, I’m not one to worry about things until there is actually something to worry about (school presentations aside, those gave me some serious anxiety). Don’t get me wrong, I can worry like the best of them; however, for my sanity, it’s much better to look on the bright side until there are actually clouds on the horizon.

With that said, after much worrying (on my parents part) and ice cream and cake eating (on my part), the mystery was solved; the culprit, identified. There in the middle lobe of my right lung was a carcinoid, basically a small tumor in the middle of my airway. You know how annoying it is when people just stop in the middle of the sidewalk and they are positioned in such a way that it is literally impossible to go around them? I hate those people. So I guess it only stands to reason that I would have one of them in my body. Jerk.

So the date was set, the room was booked, and the middle lobe was removed. I thanked the doctor, hopped on the transport table, and refused visitors for about as long as I could. So if it seemed like a long time that first day, it’s because I refused to see you people the first time around. No hard feelings, I just wanted to sleep!

I spent the next four days in the hospital, again eating ice cream and cake with just about every meal. Hospital food really isn’t so bad after all. But of course it can’t hold a candle to Town Spa, which Shelagh was gracious enough to bring me. Heaven. It was like nothing had ever happened. I hadn’t fainted. I hadn’t had pneumonia. I hadn’t had a carcinoid in my right middle lobe and they hadn’t removed a part of my lung. (Of course, I still had the epidural in so it actually didn’t feel like they had gone in and removed a part of me). John, for future reference, the way to my heart is through Town Spa pizza but I think you already know that. Bacon. Well done. Yes, I really do mean well done. I was released the next day. Granted the release date was scheduled all along but I’m pretty sure Town Spa has healing powers.

Or maybe it was the chocolate covered strawberries. They make everything better too.

The days and weeks that followed I was anxious all the time. Not anxious in a bad way, just anxious to get back to being me. I was antsy to get up and out of the house, antsy to go running, antsy to go back to work, antsy to go back to living.

And then Spain happened. I had talked about it, even dreamed about it, for years but up until then it had only been a dream. And as much as I wanted it to happen I figured it would always stay a dream because getting a job was impossible. Believe me I tried. However, after three long, winter months (wow, was it really that long?) of literally being unable to do anything, all I wanted was to do. I didn’t care that I didn’t have a job. I didn’t care that I didn’t have a place to live. I just had to go or I knew that I never would.

Six months later I bought a one way ticket, packed my bags and hit the open skies. I know, six months doesn’t sound all that quick but I had a lot to do in the meantime. I had to officiate a wedding (actually two, we did sneak in that other one before my license expired!), find Nessie in Scotland (or maybe just fairies), and meet my boyfriend…just weeks before I was set to leave. Life is funny that way, isn’t it?

When I changed the calendar to January 2016 I got to thinking about January 2015. How dis appointed I was that there had been no snow for Christmas and no snow in sight when the new year rolled around. Well, they do say that you can never really know what’s coming. Three weeks later, it started snowing. A lot. And it didn’t look back. Three weeks later, with the snow finally knocking on my door, I fainted and dashed through the snow to the hospital. We had record amounts of snow and I didn’t get to make one snow angel, or build one snowman, or throw one snowball. Or shovel, come to think of it (sorry parents!)

But back to 2016. The new year opened, and I looked ahead to a year of unknowns. But one thing I did know was that this year would be different than the last year. This would be a year of action. I would be doing…something. March 23, 2016 would be very different than March 23, 2015. And so it was.

I started the day with nice long run. (I promise I did run in between those pictures, but, y’know, I have to compensate for the hospital pictures!)

Then had a nice hearty breakfast, with way too much just enough coffee and some episodes of New Girl (sorry Lauren, I skipped ahead!)

And later I will close out the day with a train ride to Logroño to start my Easter weekend vacation. Well, hello wine country.

…and action!