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Tomorrow…tomorrow…

After over a year I am getting cut open again. I was notified that I didn't have to take a Covid test because it is "minor" surgery...I know I look young but, ha! I kid, I kid, nervous chattering is not just for my mouth, forgive my dad joke, I am just trying to not cry about it but now it's too late, the tears are flowing as I write this. I know this can help, that is my hope but the idea that my sensitive area is going to be sliced and diced again is a skosh upsetting, I am definitely a bit of a baby about this, I know.


I fell asleep at 1 pm yesterday, my body is definitely a bit compromised more than usual lately, the fevers popping in intermittently and the goop running out of me like a faucet turned all the way on. Of course I am "lucky" to be alive and yes I keep a tally of what I am grateful for but I want more than this. I want to sleep through the whole night without having to change soaked through pads, I want to be able to sit in a chair like a normal person, I want to be able to enjoy the perks of my mature body that I am supposed to have now, I want to go to Greece and swim in the ocean without having to plug up my wounds. Just being alive isn't enough, fuck the sentiment "at least they are alive" and fuck people who say that only to make themselves feel better... Sorry about my temper tantrum but this is where I share the good, bad, ugly and emo...It's part of my healing and I really don't intend to offend, I just want to make people aware of how it can feel on this side of the disease experience, at least for me.


I am glad I am still alive but while I am still here I plan to aim for more...Blergh...My mom always did say I was dramatic, ha!


I will let you know how it all went next week.


Until next time ❤️

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