a milestone for me…blogging under the heady influence of morphine.  wheeee…zzzz.

it is almost 11 pm, and we just got home from the hospital.  i went at 7 this morning, saw my doctor, had a bunch of bloodwork done, and discovered that the weekend doctor hadn’t actually managed to get me on the surgery schedule after all.  was sent home, told not to eat or drink anything (hadn’t had anything since suppertime yesterday, poor starveling) since they might be able to squeeze me in sometime later in the morning, but if not to come back at 3.  come 3 o’clock they had me strip down to the indignity of a johnny shirt, got an IV started, and holed Dave & i up in a little room in Labour & Delivery for the next four hours where we listened to the sounds of brand new babies coming into the world while playing word association.  i fantasized aloud about all the holiday baking i wished to eat once the surgery was over and my parched maw was once more allowed nourishment.  and i tried to quiet the startlingly vivid images in my head of myself in that very same room on a spring morning two-and-a-half years ago, covered in blood, my water broken at 24 weeks, waiting for the medivac to airlift me to Halifax.

there was less blood this time, more tidiness, less panic.

the surgery, when it finally came, went smoothly, without apparent complications.  i came to shaky and confused and crampy, but Sister Morphine was at the ready, and i calmed.  it is over, i chanted in my head, and was glad.  i am still glad.  i am relieved.

Dave snuck Chinese chicken balls in for a feast when they brought me back from recovery…i could think of nothing i wanted more.  six chicken balls, six little cups of water with ice, drunk through a bendy straw.   the nurses were kind.  the unnatural red of the chicken ball sauce startled one when she saw our used napkins in the garbage afterward.

now, home, floating high and fuzzy in the arms of the blood-red poppy, i will rest.