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a week of recovery

 It's both inspiring and disorienting to see how different I feel each day. When I was in the hospital, I thought I had never been anywhere else. I was waking up so slowly. However, I always thought that I was at my max capacity of alertness. It feels like so much happened while I was there and there was no before. Like I was born then. But when I think back, really nothing happened other than my vitals being taken again and again.  At home I have been slow to wake up as well. Today is the first day I have any degree of stamina for being out of bed. I still have a feeling of the life I saw flash before my eyes and wanting to hold onto it and shine a mirror up to that little glow ball I'm carrying with me but maybe I'm not awake yet. One thing I want to talk about is my dreams. Whether it's the medication, or the moon, or the healing sleep I don't know but I've been having some dreams.  The first night I was home I kind of forget what the dream was. All I remembe
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the night before surgery

 Tonight, Michael went outside to get Major settled for the week. I stood in the bathroom and turned off the lights. Three times I raised my arms up to the air, stretched out my fingers, and used them like antennae to soak up all of the positive love and healing energy people had been sending me. Breathing out I pushed all the energy through my body.  I feel powerful.  Tomorrow I will go in to surgery and afterwards I will just sit in awe of my body's ability to recover. To generate new cells. To not just mend but recreate itself. For some reason I've been moody all day about losing the confidence and stability I once had in my relationship with Michael. I've been fussy and angry thinking about other people who have let me down or not shown the love I wanted. It's like, because I'm not getting the attention I once was I think I lost that part of myself, like it must not exist anymore if the attention is gone.  However, I have the power to not just mend but recreate
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The beginning

 This is where I will tell my story. Wednesday 11/4 Last week, exactly a week ago it was November 4th. It was the day after the election. Nothing much was happening just a lot of vote counting. I went to Pennsylvania Hospital to have an ultrasound. The U/S tech was nice and asked me if I had a history of endometriosis. etc. This part of the story is boring. I went to MOMs organic and got the weirdest tacos ever.  Thursday 11/5 At 10:50 I received a phone call from my "primary care" doctor, an NP named Charlotte who I've seen twice in the past 5 years. She told me she saw the ultrasound and I have a 13 cm' mass not necessarily connected to my ovary and it looks very concerning. She gave me several numbers of offices and told me to call right away. I texted Shay and asked her to cover the next hour. I started teaching and kept leaning back in my chair, putting my head in my hands and crying. I kept picturing Rachel Macy, hiding in my classroom and crying during the day
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