Sunday, April 12, 2015

Sunday afternoon

Pretty much every day I think about writing here. In my blog.   And when I don't, I feel like I should have.  In some perverse way, blogging is like homework.  Something I feel like I have to do.  Something I put off.  And something I usually feel really good about when I am done.

Procrastination.  Why oh why do I do it?   I think everyone procrastinates to some extent.   But I don't know why.

It's like the motto "queen of unfinished projects" is a point of pride.  The more activities that you (I?) have going at once, the more seemingly productive one feels.    There is much humor about this.   I know and appreciate this humor as it applies to me too.  But, having all of these projects hanging over my head, waiting to be done, makes it harder to finish, or sometimes even start.

I have fabric.   I bought each and every piece of the fabric I have with "something" in mind.  Sometimes that something was a specific pattern I planned to make.  Sometimes "something" was more vague.  Like, thinking that it would make a nice dress/ pillow/ place-mat/ shirt-you name it.  I even have fabric and patterns all pinned and cut out, ready to sew.  Problem is, they are in a size 2, that I was going to make for a toddler who is now eight years old.

And I have to fight the urge to go buy even more fabric.  It is so beautiful, I just want to own it!

And then there is the yarn.  the photos I have blown up to poster size that sit in a portfolio folder, the canvasses I bought with the thought of yet another creative thing I was going to do.  What was it?  I dunno.

I have binders full of the pictures of every item I have every thought I would like to knit, sew, scrapbook, cook etc.   And occasionally, I see something online that I love so much I print it to put into a binder- only to discover that I already printed it and put it into a binder.  Two years ago.

I have new eyeglasses to pick up.  Laundry that needs to get done.  Trashcans to empty.  A dress that is sitting next to my sewing machine waiting to be converted from cut pieces of fabric into something wearable.   And here I sit, in front of my computer at almost 2:00pm in my pajamas.

I do have an excuse.  A pretty good one.  I am recovering from surgery.  It's almost one week since my thyroid was removed.   I feel well.  In fact, I probably could even say I feel great!    I still have strips of surgical tape on my neck, and bruises from IVs and heparin shots.   But I am not in any pain.

Actually, for the first time in a very long time I feel like I am getting better.  Healthier.  I feel like I have been fighting for years,  And years.  And years.  Twenty years from diagnosis to treatment.   Numerous doctors who as much as patted me on the head while my body was fighting itself and on the way to self destruct.  I have no doubt that the goiter/ thyroid lump that was taken out of my body would have eventually killed me.   I don't know if I would have had years of decline before I died.  Or if I would have finally gotten diagnosed after treatment was not an option.  Needless to say, I am happy I am alive today.  I am happy that I was heard and finally taken seriously.  I am thankful for a new acquaintance who somehow, knew that something was wrong and sent me to her doctor.  I have been trying to advocate for myself all of these years, but have not succeeded, partly because I was not totally sure what I was asking for.  I feel annoyed.  Angry maybe?  Dumbfounded.   How many times have I heard, "oh yes, you have thyroid disease" and had tests and ultrasounds and still been left to continue growing this thing that wanted to cut off my ability to breath?

So, today, I am breathing deeper.   I am feeling better.   I will be alright.  Onward to newer and better  things- whatever they may be.

Meanwhile, I just got an email telling me that I have aged out of the bone marrow registry.  Ha!


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I just decided to add before and after surgery pictures:

Before

After



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