Recovery = Reflection


It’s day eleven since my septoplasty, and I can say that it hasn’t been the most enjoyable time of my life. I came out of it with seemingly-flying colors, only to be nailed by a wicked head cold/flu. Up until three days ago, I was flat on my back with two Labrador Retrievers laying on me (they think they are lap cats), doing their best to love me back to health.

Yes, that's me under there in my blanket cocoon.

Yes, that’s me under there in my blanket cocoon.

About two weeks before my surgery, I saw a tweet from someone urging the twitterverse to check out her can’t-remember-what on Snapchat. I’d heard of Snapchat before, but never knew what it was. After downloading the app, I couldn’t figure out how to find the aforementioned Snapchat in question, so I abandoned it. It wasn’t until I saw my daughter a week later that I asked what the damn app was for, and how I would go about watching the can’t-remember-what that the tweet was about. She explained that they are only there for 24-hours, and I had missed my opportunity. Sigh…

Out of pity, she “friended” me (if that’s what you call it), and I took to checking it every day after work to watch the hijinks of my granddaughter. Once I took leave for my surgery though, it has been my saving grace—my addiction, actually. I can always tell when my granddaughter is with “other grandma” though—there is always radio silence, and I must wallow in self-pity alone.

In addition to my newfound addiction, I’ve had a lot of time to think during my forced downtime. Today was the kicker though—but I’ll get back to that later.

During my immobility, I thought a lot about goals, aspirations, my family’s future, etc. Just as I was feeling almost well enough to get some things done, I received a reminder that I had yet to share my recent guest blog on any of the social media outlets I subscribe to. Like the good girl I am, I dragged my snotty corpse down to my office to follow through on my promise. To be honest though, I had written the article so long ago, that I had completely forgotten what it was even about.

Do You “Love” Him? Or Are You “IN Love” With Him? was the article I wrote, and I took a few moments to read it over again. As I read it through, butterflies began to dance in my tummy. Although it hurts to smile, I smiled inside as I realized that, once again, my husband did something for me to emphasize that I am definitely “in love” with him. At my request, he took two days off from work to care for me post-op. Although he was glad to take the time away from his weekday grind, he did not let me down. That man took such good care of me.

About three weeks before my surgery, my husband didn’t give me the usual good-bye kiss when he dropped me off at work, “Sorry sweetie, I feel something coming on and I don’t want you to get sick before your surgery.” It’s now over a month later and I still haven’t felt his lips on mine. Forehead and cheek only. Even the most subtle movements of my mouth can send shockwaves of pain through my face. There’s also “something else” I’m not supposed to do—some say for 7-10 days, some advise to abstain for a few weeks. So my cranky factor is off the charts at the moment.

I was also incapable of sleeping in our bed for the first five days, so I made myself an elevated nest on our sofa. The antibiotics have given me insomnia (as well as a constant feeling of fatigue—go figure), so I spent day and night on the couch watching countless shows on Netflix. Even though he was in the house with me, I felt so alone. So detached. I missed him like never before. And then it happened.

 

* Veronica Fun Fact #1: Has the sense of smell better than an African Elephant and can smell the fart of a cow from a mile away (upwind).

* Veronica Fun Fact #2: Has the sense of taste to put the 250,000 taste buds of a catfish to shame. She has shocked many at wine tastings with her ability to pick out the minutest hint of a normally undetected ingredient.

 

* Veronica Fun Fact #3: She is scent-sensitive and the smell of newsprint (and many, many, many colognes and fragrances) makes her entire face burn. Also cannot STAND the feeling of newsprint on her hands.

 

* Veronica Fun Fact #4: Food and sex deprivation make Veronica a very cranky girl.

 

* Veronica Fun Fact #5: Incapable of being surprised or tricked, and can detect when someone is lying.

Despite how humorous this scentsational information seemed, it made me realize something very important—I’m an emotional eater.

After three days of not being able to taste or smell the foods we were eating, I no longer wanted to eat. I had absolutely no desire whatsoever. I did force myself to though, but I really didn’t care if I ever ate again. This was a huge epiphany for me. Now how can I conquer it? How can I, in five weeks, throw away my emotional crutch in time for my taste buds to wake up again?

Why in the hell couldn’t I be afflicted with the curse being an “emotional exerciser” instead of this? Ugh!

Since my health challenges of 2011, I’ve never really gotten back on my 5-6 day-a-week exercise habit. I had planned to spend my holidays getting that habit back, but now I realize that I really must follow through with that promise.

Well, back to today.

After feeling slightly better over the past day-and-a-half, I woke up this morning with a terrible headache and feeling like crap. Two steps forward, one step back.

With my hubby off at his parents’ house for the day, I was left alone with my Labrador lap cats and Netflix again. I searched through endless categories trying to find something to watch that my beloved would not be interested in. I finally settled on a romance movie called 5 to 7. It had a decent star rating, so I took the plunge. It left me with a feeling of having been kicked in the stomach.

“Why,” you ask?

The main character was an aspiring writer who pasted his rejection letters all over his wall—until that one day. Until that one day when his fictional tale was published by a famous magazine—which then led to an offer to publish a yet-unwritten manuscript.

They loved his “voice.”

Something I have been told so many times about my own writing. Although the movie is fictional, it gave me hope. It gave me hope that someday, my voice would be heard in the way I dream of it being heard.

I pulled up my bootstraps and headed down to my office to write. My body had a different plan though. The chills and sweats came on and I retreated back to the sofa to cuddle up with my new friend, Netflix. To which I settled on How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. A movie we’d seen before, so knew I could watch it without my husband. It left me with a feeling of having been kicked in the stomach.

“Again,” you say?

The main character was, again, an aspiring writer.

It seems as though the universe needed to get a message to me today.

Message heard, loud and clear.

It’s time for me to dig my teeth into my dream and pursue it with a hunger that my taste bud-less mouth has never known.

My journey continues…

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