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St. Cecilia

Right, so I just deleted a longer version of this post because I realized that the title would have to be something like, “In which I am living in Self-Pityville, population: me.”

Long story short, I’m feeling stressed and pressured about life in general right now.  My surgery is coming closer and closer, and I’m not ready for it.  These are some of the things that are stressing me out:

  • My bedroom still isn’t done. It’s getting closer.  The painting might be done today or tomorrow.  But even after that’s done, I still have to move and arrange and organize, and there’s not much time left.
  • I only have a three more days at work in which to prepare for being out for a significant chunk of time. This includes training the two ladies who are sitting in for me while I’m gone, and tying up a seemingly infinite number of loose ends.
  • Since Big Brother and his family are in town, relatives from both sides of the extended family are coming in to town now rather than at Christmas, which means Christmas presents have to be ready to be given now instead of in a month.
  • The resources I’ve found about how to recover from the kind of surgery I’m going to have recommend wearing clothes that are stretchy and comfortable, and have no waistbands to press on a swollen abdomen or rub against stitches.  While I am at home I can wear the flannel nightgowns I’ve been working on, but I need something to wear home from the hospital.  They say a loose dress with no waistband is ideal.  I don’t have any dresses like that.  So somehow I need to find time to make one in the next week and a half.
  • There’s a huge, long list of other things that need to be taken care of before I’m out of commission for a while.  Some of it is getting done, but there’s always more to do.

At the same time, the medicine I’ve been taking to stop my bleeding has gradually stopped working.  So they’ve upped the dose.  The lower dose already had me feeling like I’d been PMSing for a month straight.  The new dose has me about one sentimental holiday commercial away from a crying jag at all times, plus tired all the time.  It’s a little comforting to know that if I’m feeling hormonal, it’s because I’m, you know, on hormones.  Still, it’s really hard to distinguish what’s normal stress and anxiety about a packed calendar and a long to-do list, and what’s the medication amplifying everything.

Meanwhile, people I really like a lot are coming into town or are in town, and I’d like to spend time with them.  This also means that there’s a family thing scheduled on six of the ten days left until my surgery.   And people keep trying to schedule more.

On top of all this, yesterday would have been Jacob’s 34th birthday, so I’m missing him a lot and grieving.  I had a whole blog post planned about how memories of my brother are becoming more purely sweet without as much bitter, and about being grateful for the gift that Jacob was (also very appropriate for yesterday’s feast, which was The Presentation of Mary).  But I couldn’t get through writing the first paragraph without breaking down into sobs.  So while it’s all true, and hopefully I’ll be able to write and post it later, that’s not going to be now.

And my car is making funny noises, which always freaks me out.

All of which feels about like this:

So, you know, please keep me in your prayers.

In the meantime, I have pretty much given up on NaBloPoMo. There’s just too much going on.  I love you guys, and I’ll post as much as I can, but it’s not going to be every day.

ETA: And then after this is all posted, I read this, which is maybe just what I needed.  Cuz maybe the important thing isn’t that I have something cute to wear home from the hospital, the important thing is that I’ll be coming home from the hospital.  And  I’m probably going to forget that again in about twenty minutes, but hopefully I’ll keep remembering it again too.