Nearly there.
Day fourteen and I am almost a free woman.

Just in time for spring.

recovering;;

The road to recovery can feel like a long one.

After two major procedures in one day, one of which had a few complications, I'm starting to feel like myself again. Last night, however, ended with me in a fit of anesthesia induced tears, a culmination of anticipation and anxiety over a nerve-wracking procedure and my dear, fragile, blood ridden lungs.

I'm trying to process what happened without dwelling on it, for fear the fear will creep back into my mind, the fear that I'll never recover, and that my lungs won't stop bleeding, and that the rest of my life will be spent on operating tables, and in beds in a supine position, and that the quality of the remainder of my days had just dropped significantly.

So instead of focusing on that, I'm accentuating the positive.

I'm able to sit.
I'm no longer bleeding.
I'm able to stand, and walk, even if it is more of a hobble.
My lungs are taking full, deep breaths again, and I'm no longer in need of O2.
The incision site is clean, unaffected, and healing.
The sun is shining outside of my windows, I'm able to eat, sing, talk, and laugh.
Today is a much, much better day than yesterday.

For that, my lungs and I are grateful.
..as are my nurses, who had to deal with all my bitchin'.

lookin' good.
must be the shape of my head...

This waiting has me anxious.
I sat up in bed at least three times coughing up blood last night.
My body is tired, my mind is running, and my stomach is tied up in knots.

When I woke up at quarter to six to cough up (hopefully) the last bit of blood I had stored in my lung, I saw the most brilliant sunrise. The sky was a fire of reds and pinks and oranges.

Now it's gray, and drizzling, and I'm waiting to get taken downstairs for a procedure that has tied my stomach into knots for the last twenty-four hours.

Here's to hoping it will stop the bleeding.