Sweet Sunday

Nothing will do more for your perspective than sleep.  Six straight hours of sleep, to be exact, which is the most uninterrupted sleep I've had since October 14 (yes, two days before surgery).

Last night I had a little mini breakdown about singing.  I don't know why it hadn't occurred to me before. It should have. We had a little belated cake and presents for my sister and when it came time to sing Happy Birthday, I couldn't.  Anyone who took Sight Singing with me would wonder why I would care.  But I did. Christmas Carols.  Singing prayers at the synagogue.  Belting out a song with the radio in the car.  The National Anthem.  There was a deep sense of loss.  Yet, somewhere in sleep, it became okay.

Last night, I also got a shower, which is a bigger deal than it sounds.  Kelly had to replace our shower head (yes, we only have one shower) with a wand.  Then we had to cover the trach collar with wax paper so it wouldn't get wet.  I could do most of it myself, but not my hair.  I'm a "leaner backer" which is not really an option when you have an open hole in your neck.  So I had to lean forward and cover the trach while Kelly washed my hair.  He should get a medal for all the stuff he has had to do.

Between sleep and clean, I actually got up and got dressed this morning.  Well, out of jammies and into sweats, if that counts.  Karina and I went out and salvaged as much of the dent corn as we could.  Most of it was moldy, but there a few ears left, enough to decorate and have fresh seed for next year.

The amazing outpouring from our friends continues.  Mia the miracle worker came and started the long process of unkinking all off my beat up body parts.  My shoulders are singing her praises.  In all the chaos, I didn't even think of arnica for my horribly bruised up arms, which, thanks to her, are also no longer aching.

Angie came to get corn plants for school and did some desperately needed yard clean up.  I was in no condition to put the garden to bed this year.  She has offered to round up a crew.  She was behind the stealth house cleaners, too.  I am overwhelmed.

My sister is here and has done the requisite 10,000 loads of laundry that come with living with drains and drool.  We are finding a rhythm of visiting since I am scrawling out notes and she has audibles.  It would appear strange to outsiders, I'm sure.  The inside jokes are still there.

The steady stream of visitors has helped me avoid hanging out inside my head for too long.  It is better to sort this out bit by bit rather than in big pieces.  I love that everyone wants to "do something" and somethings really need to be done.  But sometimes, just sitting with me and conversing, telling me about life, is the most valuable gift you can give me right now.

For Kelly, if you could send him some sleep, that would be best.

Until tomorrow--

Kiara