Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear my friends, there’s been a lot that’s happened in the past couple months. I mentioned “flare-ups” quite often in my Domestic Diary posts—flare-ups that started up two or three years ago and would sometimes land me in the emergency room because the pain was so intense. At first they were every few months, then every other month, every month, every three weeks…it’s been truly awful.

We started to get the ball rolling in March to get me in for a surgery to make the flare-ups stop, but my insurance denied the surgery until I’d tried alternative methods to manage the condition. Three months later, the alternative methods hadn’t made a dent AND I’d racked up two more ER visits, so they finally approved the surgery.

Which led to the next problem of trying to find someone to perform the surgery. There’s a doctor shortage here in Washington, and also a huge backlog when it comes to surgery because there’s not enough surgeons and their calendars are so full that they’re scheduling procedures two to four months out. Michael got sick of the wait-and-see and took a day off of work in July to phone every surgeon within twenty-five minutes of us to try to get an appointment with them. He phoned thirty-something offices, left messages with each one, and only one office got back to us. (I am amazed at the level of unprofessionalism that exists here in Washington State; it’s not just the medical industry that acts like that, it’s almost everyone.)

However, as luck would have it, the one doctor that phoned us back was the doctor that was #1 on Michael’s research list of surgeons, so we were pleased to go meet them and get things moving forward. It turned out to be a great decision: While the surgeon I was already working with was predicting a surgery date of late October through early December, the new surgeon said they’d definitely get me in by mid-October. Then their secretary called me up in early September and said that something had come up and a spot had opened up in mid-September and did I want it? I enthusiastically said, “YES,” and our family launched into surgery prep mode with about a week’s notice. We were too excited to care about the condensed timeline. Mom might be able to function as a normal human being soon? We were all in! Yay!

My surgery date came and went with all the normal happenings. Getting cut, removing things from your body, and getting stitches hurts, so I was in a normal amount of pain as I set off to recuperate at home. Most of my friends who have had this sort of procedure said they were feeling pretty normal again with a week or two, so I set my sights on feeling more like myself in that time. Unfortunately, I started feeling a little worse on Day 5 of post-op, and then worse every day after that until I was just lying around feeling lethargic and nauseous. On Day 9 of post-op I finally spiked a fever that necessitated a trip to the ER, where we discovered that one of my organs had exploded. I was taken into surgery to do what could be done to clean up the damage.

I started my healing process again, only to go back to the ER four days later with early signs of sepsis. (That was a scary experience that I might talk about later, or I might not.) I was pumped full of antibiotics, watched over carefully through the night, and released in the morning to once again recuperate at home.

So I’m on Day 19 & 10 of post-op, and Day 5/6 since the mini sepsis scare. As we were driving home from the last ER visit I received a spiritual prompting, weirdly, to not recuperate in my bedroom because the stairs would be too much for me. So we’ve set me up in the front room on our hideaway bed and I’ve spent the last week watching movies and desperately trying to rally the strength to do, well, anything. I’ve never been this tired and worn-out in all of my life: On top of everything else, I’ve become severely anemic, which has me feeling like I just don’t have any gas in my tank to do anything.

But as always, there’s glimmers of beauty and love amongst the pain and despair. Michael has turned himself inside out on a daily basis with caring for me. I’ve no shortage of snacks, drive-thru runs, clean clothes and all the needed supplies to help me heal. He’s taken over my carpool duties as best he can while still going to work, with other members of the carpools unhesitatingly covering any leftover deficits. He’s set up the projector to cast my movies onto the ceiling so I can still watch something when I’m too tired to sit up enough to watch a normal TV screen. The kids love the whole “TV on the ceiling” experience, so you’ll find us laying on our backs on the front room couches most evenings to continue working our way through the “White Collar” television series. There’s been such sweetness amongst all the bitter.

Friends have come out of the woodwork to help with everything. And goodness, when did everyone get so good at cooking? We have eaten like kings as dear friends have dropped off dinners and treats. Our refrigerator (cup) overfloweth…what a wonderful problem to have. I’ve had visitors to help pass my very empty time, and I just feel so loved and seen.

Even the prompting to set myself up on the couch bed has paid off, too: I simply don’t have the energy to go up and down the stairs multiple times a day, so it was a very good decision to set me up downstairs. An extra bonus is that, from my couch bed, I have a view of my garden. My garden may not end up being processed into food storage this year, but goodness me, does it bring me joy, and it continues to bring me joy as I gaze out upon it longingly as it flourishes and ripens in the golden autumn sunshine.

With me being situated near the front door, the kids are able to interact with me a whole lot more as well. I was feeling rather lonely during my time recuperating in my bedroom. It’s nice that your kids will figure out how to solve their problems on their own while you’re healing, but lack of human connection can really make a person feel down. It’s nice to be right there when they get home from work and school; they’ll sit down and talk with me for a few minutes as they take off their shoes and it lifts my spirits to connect and know what’s going on in their little worlds even while I’m not involved in my normal capacity.

And now my medication is kicking in and it’s becoming a little difficult to piece words into sentences, so I’ll end here for now with the hope that I can write some more in the upcoming weeks as I (hopefully) continue to heal through completion without any interfering events.