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.