I am finally feeling more at home here… My pillows have returned!
Doesn’t it look so much more homey now?
There is only one box left in the living room. It’s a big box, full of art. Now I’m not in English class, and I’m not writing poetry here, but let me throw out some symbolism. I can’t unpack that box until the rest of the house is organized and I know where I want to hang our artwork… so until then it can only sit. In the way. Now for the symbolism part: that last unpacked box that’s marring my homey feeling is a lot like my health these days. I’ve been feeling great health-wise since moving here, just like the moving in and unpacking that has been going smoothly (work with me here on the moving analogy).
But. I have also been seeing new doctors, and getting more procedures done, and this week I learned the details of my upcoming surgery. I’m not sure how I got it into my head that it might be more like an outpatient procedure, but… it’s not. At all. It’s more like 7 days in the hospital and 4-6 weeks of recovery. So. That was a bit of a doozy to process. Bear with me here, more symbolism… I feel like this surgery has become the obstacle in the way of feeling at home here. I can’t look for a job with this looming in front of me. Afterwards, I won’t have much energy for a while. It won’t feel like my life has “started” until all this is behind me.
But I know it is necessary. If I wasn’t already concerned about my recent weight loss, last week I had a warning that I couldn’t ignore. I wasn’t sure if I should share this on the internet, but it helps me to write it out. I had an “incident” the other day when I met Sam for lunch. Long story short, due to various reasons that I should have heeded, I fainted in an overheated cafe and hit my head on a table. No stitches needed, and I felt immediately better when I was outside cooling down and eating and drinking. Ok, so “immediately” is not exactly true. I was very shaky and bleeding a little bit and all I wanted to do was lay down on my bed and cry. (Can I just pause for a second to reflect on the irony that I never overheated while living in MS, where the temperature is routinely in the 90’s, but then I do when it’s 65 degrees in SF? And here in SF, I went OUTSIDE to cool down. Ok, reflection over.) But that’s when city life hits you upside the head–you have to get back on the bus to go home. No car! But luckily Sam was with me, and he was white as a sheet but he took such good care of me and made sure I was perfectly ok before riding back with me all the way to the apartment, and ran down to Walgreens while I laid down, and stayed with me until I was ready to take a nap… and then he went back to work for the afternoon. The cut is right above my eye and the fall took some eyelashes too (how lucky am I that my eye/vision wasn’t damaged?!), but it is healing very nicely with some liquid band-aid.
So… that’s where my health is right now. It’s a big brown box standing in the way of my new life. But I know it takes time to feel at home, and that box is carrying some very fragile and important things inside. Right now I just want it to be empty, and I want my life to BEGIN already, but I know that’s not the way moving works. Some boxes are meant to be unpacked carefully, gently, and slowly. And that box may be around for a while, and I may reorganize the rest of the apartment several times before I’m ready to empty the box. But it will happen, all in good time.
Thanks for letting me share my continuing health saga in this strange environment known as the internet. I don’t want to feel labeled as a SICK person, and I don’t like to act like it, so I promise to keep writing about other things–books, and San Francisco, and crafting–because they make me happy. And I hope they make you happy too, because I can’t stop writing now 🙂