Reality really sucks, time to talk about my next surgery.

We had an appointment with Dr.PB about my upcoming surgery. He suggested a consult with another surgeon who can do the procedure via laparoscopy. The upside is the shortened recovery time and my ginormous incision would not have to be reopened. Not that it matters that much aesthetically, my torso is already mutilated. The down side is the possibility that once the surgeon sees what he is up against, he won't be able to reverse the procedure that way, and I end up in a lot of pain either way. Some good news from the scan, no more diverticulitis and no need to remove another chunk of intestine. I'll believe it when I am home fully recovered.

I can definitely live with a 2 day hospital stay, and that is my goal, much to P's annoyance. We are already butting heads about what I need to do in order to recover. Who the heck wants to hang out in a hospital wearing a gown that shows your backside? Besides, those places are cesspools of contamination, who the heck wants to be surrounded by sick people? But the man just does not see things my way. It should still take about a month to get OR time, and that means right smack on JJ's & SS's birthdays. After carefully consideration (1/2 second) I have decided to wait until after their birthdays. P is not too sure, but this is about my body, therefore my choice.

Also, JJ is going to be here for this surgery and he needs to request a week or so off. While I hate being a burden, I am big enough to admit that I really want to see both my kids before heading into bowel hell. Last time I was very upset when P called JJ, because I did not want him to worry about something he could not do anything about. P was adamant that we do not keep this type of information from our kids. I was in too much pain to argue, and only asked him to at least soften the information and be positive. After my last appointment with Dr. PB and the realization that I was in pretty awful shape, I have reconsidered some of my control freak ways of wanting to be strong. I need my kids, they are the reason I'm still walking around causing mayhem.

Then there is SS, my main concern. All I have to do is wince and she becomes hyper vigilant. I wish I could wait longer for the reversal, simply to give her time to heal emotionally. Then there is the possibility that she won't, that she'll always be waiting for something to happen to her Mama. Also, not looking forward to her regressing more, but again, we have to accept, adapt and move on.

All jokes about my mutilated torso aside, I am ready to move on. This has been a truly humiliating experience. I have no idea who implanted the stubborn chip in me, but accepting help is difficult for me. I was taught to give help and I have to problem helping strangers. But accepting help? Kind of difficult, even when it comes from my husband. P constantly reminds me that I would do the same for him. True, I would, without giving it a thought. That is a comfort zone for me (no pun intended). P has been a trooper, because dealing with me when I am healthy and happy is difficult. Dealing with me when I am wallowing in self pity not a fun ride. Who knows, maybe in a few years I can have cosmetic surgery and achieve some sense of relief and normalcy.

When P came home this afternoon, he remembered that with all the gloom and doom talk, he forgot to compliment me. Me? For what? P said "Baby you do not know the first thing about matching colors. But you did a great job with SS today, you might be actually be learning." Heh. I'm going to start calling him Sunshine.

This picture is not going to be as funny when it comes up during SS's rehab stint.

I got her to smile by telling her that we were on our way to meet Baba.

Why yes, Mama put this outfit together, color blindness aside.

This afternoon P and SS were playing and P grabbed the camera. Always good to see SS's smiling mug.









SS's hair is getting long, need to start thinking about her first haircut since coming home. We are still surprised that her hair has wave to it and worry if she'll lose it with a trim.