Oh my, how time does fly. I had fully intended to blog about my progress during my surgery recovery, but I have managed to avoid computers for most of my recovery time. I'm half convinced that is why recovery has gone so well. So, for those who are curious, here's what's been going on...

My few days at Piedmont Hospital didn't seem all that eventful. I was taken off the Morphine drip and oxygen 24 hours after surgery, and the next couple of days sucked, honestly. The pain killers they gave me were apparently not enough at first, but I tried not to complain. I was later told by the nurses that I didn't complain enough. I remember waking up at 3am Friday night (my 2nd night there, 1st night unhooked from morphine) in some of the worst pain of my life. I didn't want to bother the nurses for some reason, so I just writhed in pain, my eyes watering, thinking I'd fall back asleep. My mom was sleeping next to me in the chair, but since she wasn't snoring, I didn't want to disturb her. After about 15 min I called the nurse, barely able to speak to tell her I was in pain...15 min later (though it seemed like an hour), she came to rescue me from the pain. The next day, I was told to complain more when it hurt...and the nurse the following day/night set a timer to give me my medicine b/c they didn't trust me to tell them when I was hurting again. This "superwoman" was defeated. That Saturday was rough, as the pain from the night before must've worn me out...I slept a lot, and got out of bed very little. The last day there, I think I moved around too much for the first time or something, but I felt like my internal organs were going to flop out of me...I guess they'd been kind of crowded by the huge tumor for quite a while.

Finally on Sunday, a nurse rolled me and a bunch of flowers/cards from amazing people out to the cold drizzly Atlanta afternoon just as my mom pulled up in my car (I was so relieved to smell the fresh air even through the rain). It sounds stupid, but as I look back at what all happened to bring me to that moment, even the cold rain on my skin felt good...as a sort of reminder that I am alive and well. I was so grateful to be leaving the wonderful Piedmont Hospital after my 3-day incarceration. It all still seems so surreal, maybe that's why I haven't written about any of it yet. I still barely believe that a 15-pound tumor was removed from me...I mean, seriously, that's freaky stuff. Upon arriving home, my apartment had been decorated by wonderful friends...there's nothing like being welcomed back to my simple 1-bedroom apartment with signs bidding Leroy farewell. The Sunday I arrived home and the following Monday were very rough. I think all of the moving around really took a lot out of me, but I'm glad to have gone through what I did. I felt so blessed by each and every person who came by to see me in the hospital and at my apartment. I cannot even begin to describe how grateful I am to every single person who visited, prayed, or gave me a supportive shout-out during this time...words cannot express how much it all means.

One of the worst things about having a huge cut down the middle of my abs is that laughter was very painful for a long time (even now, if I laugh too much it hurts). Despite this, I laughed with so many friends who came by to visit...and it was worth the pain. I want to tell specific stories, but I can't decide which to tell...they all will be etched in my memory for as long as possible (even if the Oxycodine I was on does dilute the vividness of the memory a bit). Even so, those conversations and moments of painful laughter were the best medicine.

I'm stubborn, in case you were unaware, and when someone tells me to take it easy, I automatically translate that to mean, "don't run a marathon." I ran no marathons...but everytime someone came over, I wanted to appear well..so, I pushed myself. I got out of bed and stood until I thought I'd collapse. I walked/shuffled around the apartment to get my blood flowing, knowing that I'd be exhausted for a while after. I laughed and talked because I knew that these moments would be important. The first two weeks were hard, though. My staples grossed me out, and even when they were removed a week after surgery, I could barely look at the site. Sitting, standing, laying, etc was painful for weeks. Hiccups and sneezing made me tear up. I wasn't allowed to lift more than 5 pounds for 2 weeks (1/3 the weight of the tumor, I might add). Though, I realized that I was weak, I didn't need doctors to tell me. I remember looking in the mirror and barely recognizing the person standing before me. I looked so skinny...like 17-year-old me from 10 years ago. I looked weak.

Two weeks after getting sliced open on the operating table, my mom loaded up my car with as much as it could hold, and we headed down to Valdosta...Lake Park, actually...home, sweet, home. (Let me just say, at this point I still had not seen sunshine since prior to my surgery, and the rain followed us...I still wouldn't see sun again for over a week.) Even over two weeks post-surgery, I was ridiculously weak. I was allowed to lift up to 10 pounds at this point, but that's still pretty lame. My scar was finally looking less gross, but it still hurt to sit, stand, lay down, etc. After being in Valdosta a few days, I attempted Christmas shopping w/ my mom...I was winded the whole time, actually got passed in the parking lot once by a lady with a walker, and had to sit down when I could.

Well, now here we are, and I'm nearly back to normal (though the stairs still exhaust me). It has been over a month since the surgery. Christmas Eve is actually 5 weeks post-surgery. Wow, time flies. I cannot believe I've been away from Atlanta and the hustle and bustle of everything for this long. I can't believe I haven't been able to be my usual control-freak-self for so long. In 5 weeks, however, I still don't think any of this has sunk in. Minus the huge scar, weakness, and weight loss, it's seemed like just a long, less-than-pleasant vacation almost. In the past 5 weeks I have read 4 books, watched over a dozen movies, caught up on more television shows than I ever watch normally, and I've not been on my computer for more than watching junk on hulu. I was blessed by the presence of wonderful friends in Atlanta, and I've been able to catch up with old friends in Valdosta as well. God sure does work things out in some strange ways sometimes. I wish I could be half the friend my friends have been to me.

People have asked me what I want for Christmas this year over and over, and I've yet to come up with anything. Why?...because I already got everything I could've asked for. The prayers, support, and love of friends and family is a better gift than anything I could ever expect to find under the tree. I know, it sounds ridiculously corny...but it's true. I don't think I'd be as recovered as I am if it hadn't been for the support I have received. I'm sure all the banana popsicles and pain killers helped a bit, but they're just the icing and sprinkles on the cake.

This blog ended up being longer and more random than I planned. Oh well...I'll blame Leroy. Oh wait, Leroy is gone.

I am attempting to blog from my iPhone, so please excuse any grammar and spelling errors. I just want to let everyone know that I am ridiculously thankful for all of the phone calls, texts, facebook comments and messages, and all other forms of support. Thank you all so very much. It means a lot to know that people are out there praying for me as I'm stuck in this hospital bed.

As for an update, everything went very well. The tumor was absolutely HUGE, and I've got no clue how it fit inside of me...it contained almost 5 liters of liquid (gross, I know) along with the solid mass. That is insane! Needless to say the incision was huge and I was out of it for quite a while after sugery. All I remember about being in recovery is that I was really, really cold and shivering before they moved me to my own room. I spent the next about 24 hour. On the morphine drip with my button friend to help with the pain. Yesterday they took me off that and the oxygen to get up and start trying to walk around a bit. Oh my gosh, I never thought walking would be so hard. I was like an old lady who lost her walker. I kind of still am, but I am almost able to get up from the bed without too much help. Granted, I don't dare try unless I've just had my pain meds. They took the dressing off my incision last night, and it looked so creepy. I'm too squeamish to look at my own stomach! It will get better though. I can already tell things are getting better.

The biggest challenge I have faced, pain aside, is my Superwoman complex. I am learning to let people help me because I can't even sit on my own. It's crazy the lengths God has had to go to just for me to sit and listen as he informs me that I cannot do it all on my own. It's actually not that awful to be helped. Of course, nobody can help me when I start suffering from hiccups. Awful! Haha.

Anyway, the pain meds are starting to kick in so I'm off to la-la land now. Jus wanted to let folks know what's up. I hope to be able to get out of here tomorrow.

Maybe-Someday

"Maybe, someday..."
"Maybe, in the future..."

Those are lyrics from the choruses of two songs I currently can't seem to get out of my head. One is from "Someday" by Rob Thomas, the other is from "Maybe" by Ingrid Michaelson. Good songs, talented artists...but there's something peculiar. These aren't the only songs out there with that theme...the theme of maybes and what's to come. I think it's a pretty accurate reflection of what we are often caught up with. I know I've been guilty of living in the maybe-someday. The maybe does kind of give a bit of a glimpse of hope, but is your maybe a healthy hope? I know I have put my hope in outcomes that I want. I get caught up in the someday regularly. Someday I'll own a home... Someday I'll fall in love... Someday I'll accomplish this or that... Those are all maybes that have run around in my head, things I have hoped in simply because culture tells me that I should.

It took a good hard kick in the rear to teach me to step out of the maybe-someday an into the present. Not that it has been easy, as I still find myself slipping into the maybe-someday mindset. Then I jerk myself back to the present reality simply be reminding myself what is going on. The maybe-someday is never what we expect it to be, and often it's not what we may have wanted at some point. Never in the past did I daydream about a maybe-someday where I'd have a huge tumor that I'd name Leroy. Never was there maybe-someday where I'd have pictured myself 27 and single. I highly doubt there was a maybe-someday where I saw myself in a lot of the situations that I am currently in. However, they are the present reality, and I'm fine with that. Even when the present isn't seemingly ideal, it is what it is, and it's part of a plan bigger than my own.

So, my goal in dealing with the tumor, surgery, and recovery is to not focus on the maybe-someday when I'll be recovered, better, and possibly no longer have back pain. I'm going to do my best to embrace the present, even if that means embracing pain or boredom (which I'm sure there will be plenty of both). Today, I am embracing a Friday at work, and will later be present while hanging out with friends. Tomorrow is a friend's wedding, and I want to be present in that moment as well. There was a time when the maybe-someday always won out. When at work on a Friday, I could think of nothing more than what I'd be doing on Saturday. When at a wedding, I could think of little more than when it'll be my turn. And so on...

I think it might be easier to focus on the present when something big slows us down. At least, that seems to be working for me. Months ago, I had so much on my mind and was constantly thinking of maybe-someday until I was forced to slow down. It seems like God had to intervene to teach me to be present. So, I embrace this lesson, and the pain that's likely to go along with it. No pain no gain, right?

tales of the tumor

It has been named Leroy. Why? Not sure, in an instant of sick humor and feeling creative I decided to name my tumor Leroy. I figure, if it's big enough to cause as many problems as it has, the little joker deserves a name. Of course a male name, who else would be inconsiderate enough to cause such problems just for fun. In dealing with all of the unknowns and anxieties of this whole ordeal, I have discovered a lot about myself and about life. Yes, I know it's just a silly tumor, fairly common, everyone has their dramas in life. Anywho, whatever the case, I have learned a few things...

1. I actually have a fairly sick sense of humor, as I have managed to stay more than upbeat throughout most of this time. I mean, I named my tumor Leroy and refer it it as my "tumor baby." The way I see it, if we can't laugh at life, life will laugh at us. Personally, I like to be in on the joke and not the object of it.

2. There is pretty much no way I will be able to ever hide a pregnancy beyond 16 weeks, as that's about the current size of my tumor and in the past 6 months have been asked numerous times if I had a bun in the oven. Nope, it's just a tumor baby, even though at times I feel huge.

3. I am jealous that pregnant people get to wear maternity pants. For the past few weeks I have secretly wished I had some b/c I can't sit comfortably in jeans anymore.

4. Googling surgery is not a good idea...just don't do it.

5. I will never be able to ask enough questions to really prepare myself for anything. Luckily, I have enough family and friends to ask me questions that I realize I probably should've already asked.

(now for the less goofy, more meaningful things I've learned...)

6. In perspective, any news can be good news. Einstein was right, everything is relative. One day I heard the words, "it could be cancer." Days later the news, "it's a tumor," made me giddy at the simple hope that I probably didn't have cancer. Had my doctors not told me previously that it could've been cancer, maybe my attitude would not have been as positive has it's been these past couple of weeks. I'm blessed that it's not cancer and even more so because it may explain/resolve back pain issues I'd almost given up hope about.

7. When you actually allow yourself to give something up to God, He really does wonderful things. I have never been good at this, as I am an uber control freak. However, as events unfolded last month, I knew that I had no control and that I could do absolutely nothing about anything. I was powerless in almost every way. The only power I had lied in my being able to give this to God. I wasn't sure what giving it to God would look like, or even if I'd realized that I had done it. However, because this situation involves so much more than just me, my health, and my tumor, I have seen God in so many ways...so I know He heard me. Before I even knew what I needed, God had provided it. Worries that I'd been afraid to express to anyone other than God had been taken care of. Then, I realized He has put people in my life that I can, in fact, trust (something I also am not good at doing). In realizing this, I was able to be honest about my anxieties and needs in this time...wow, I have learned so much about humility. I have never been good at allowing people to help me or take care of me in anyway. I have taken pride in my self-sufficiency and independence. In this experience, I see how God is challenging me to put down that pride...I will be unable to take care of so much in the coming months. God will provide, as He already has begun to do, and I will see what it is to accept help. So, praise God for reality. Praise Him for knocking us on our rears in big ways or small ones, because these are the times where He really takes up residence in our lives.

Basically, I always have gotten through things by allowing myself to laugh and not taking life too seriously. However, when something fairly serious stared me in the face, I wasn't sure how I would handle it. Not surprisingly, the goofy side of my personality has taken over and there's been a lot of laughter as a result. I praise God that I'm able to laugh because I know that without laughter, my life would be so dark. At the same time, I have had to face the reality that I am not superwoman. Which, surprisingly, is not so funny to me. There it is though. Leroy my tumor-baby has been quite the teacher...or maybe quite the teacher's aide for the Ultimate Teacher. I am so grateful for all of the support from family in friends through this, and I know I would be nothing were it not for the love shown by so many wonderful people right now.