It's two weeks since I proved I could pee and fart on my own and hence be trusted to take care of myself post-surgery. I'd say recovery is going about as well as one could hope after having a blessed surgeon paw and snip around in my belly to remove what I now call (thanks to a dear friend's contribution) the BFU (Big Effing Uterus). The fibroid had all but swallowed the organ and grew to six times its normal weight in grams. I'm down to one Ibuprofin at night, more as a security blanket than anything. I find I like to have a slight bit of pain so that I imagine I can be aware of what's happening on the healing front. I can't always read the twinges and throbs accurately, but I trust them to signal when I get restless and want to do more than is prudent. And what will I write on this side of that life-changing event? A gratitude list. Yup, a boring, reduntant old gratitude list. Everybody's doing them these days. They're all the rage. But why not acknowledge the things that give me pause, add richness and dimension, and boost the endorphins in my brain just thinking about them? It's a positive, maybe naive, gesture, and here goes:










1. A cancer-free pathology report. Needs no 'splainin'.



2. Having a PA for a friend and a surrogate big sister. She'd give me the straight poop when no one else could, and the straight poop--good, accurate, thorough information--is just what a gal like me needs in times like these.



3. A balmy Indian Summer. My daily outdoor excursion in my PJ's surrounded in warm sun, blue sky, and the brilliant fire of dying leaves.



4. A change in the air this morning. I walked around the neighborhood, still in my PJ's, and took a good look at the spindly cosmos, defiant zinnias, alyssum, fall crocus, marigolds blazing away their last bit of color. The crisp apple crunch kind of air around my face and a nice, functional robe letting in only just enough of the cold to let me in on the change of season at hand.



5. Cats. Quiet cats. I can't tell you how satisfying it is to recline back and watch the boys slink, lurk, snooze, wrestle, investigate, and just be.



6. Good books.



7. A competent substitute teacher holding down the fort until I return.



8. Funny get well cards from my students. One had a picture of me on a gurney, advising me not to roll away. Another, read when I was in a bit more pain, wishing me a fun time, a great time, and that no one would be mean to me.



9. Family. This really isn't in heirarchial order, by the way. These are people who love me and whom I love. That's good, isn't it?



10. Netflix. Let's not denigrate decent, or even occasionally trashy, entertainment.



11. Nourishing food. Carrot juice and hummus, amazing raw Thai lettuce wraps, brown rice, vegan chili, whole grain no sugar muffins. Let food by thy medicine says Hipocrates, and these gifts from friends and family were more effective healers than any chicken noodle soup I've ever tasted.









Aw, there's more, but I'll stop here. Me thinks this blog has run its natural course. It's been a fun exercise in expression and writing, but it's too personal for a public forum. So until I dream up something that would be worthy of acquiring a following of readers, I'll retire from the project. I'm happy to do so, because the last thing on my gratitude list is:









Simplicity. This recovery period has given me the gift of slowing down and paying attention. I like it. Life will get busier, but I'm intent on keeping it only just busy enough with things I find relevant and valuable. That's all. I have no desire to fritter away the minutes and hours of my life with anything less.