Thursday, December 8, 2022

In the afternoon I sit outside in the cool sun doing my daily body exercises.  I hear in the distance sounds of hammers, table saws and bird chatter.  The garbage trucks left deep tread marks in my wet driveway. I was annoyed until I saw multiple birds picking at the newly exposed mud. I ended up smiling.

Sometimes in the midst of medical activities I revert back to being an 8 year old mouthy girl. I have a lot to say and little of it is constructive. I love this little girl in me but when it is time to make decisions, I need my mature wise self to rise to the occasion.

My last surgery in May at CHOMP was a clusterf--k. I felt overwhelmed with pain and helplessness. I didn’t die, I survived.  This time I have negotiated with the surgeon to prevent a repeat disaster.  I am hopeful and cautious. The medical workers are being kind and careful with me as we navigate this procedure.

More pages read in the gigantic book, THE INK BLACK HEART.  I am definitely intrigued by the story even with too many characters and confusing story.