Happy Friday everyone!
Life’s been pretty busy since I last posted, and the week’s been a challenge of just how far along I’ve come since surgery.
Thing1 had his senior prom on Tuesday, Thing2 won an academic science award on Thursday morning, and last night Thing1 graduated with High Honors from high school.
For me, it was witnessing just how incredible my kids are. I was such a proud mom!!! However, it was a lot more about just how far I’ve come since May 13th.
In the morning, the walk from the car to the buildings winded me. Then it frustrated me. Then I had to give me some slack. I am not at pre surgery normal, I’m learning to live a new normal. My new normal is a world where no one minds my need to sit every once and a while.
What I’ve come to terms with, however, in the last two weeks was something bigger.
It was only last week, while in hospital, when I actually allowed myself to look at my scar.
Since the stitches came out, I’ve refused to look. It’s gone so far as to when I’m blow drying my hair, hubby holds a towel in front of me so I wouldn’t see it.
During my second hospital visit, the HUGE mirror in the bathroom made it almost impossible to avoid it. So, I forced myself to just stand there, by myself, and look at it. I was grossed out by it.
Then I thought about what happened that got me this scar. What I pulled through and how tough my body really is. True, when dressed you can only see a portion of it, but I’m learning to not be self conscious about it. The full scar runs from my neck down to the bra strap goes across my chest. I still won’t touch it, but I lay my hand over it broadly. I will have a day where that won’t be the first thing I see when I look in the mirror.
Until then, here’s what I see: