Two weeks later, the fog is lifting, and I'm faced with the reality that writing assignments, work on the Good Day book with Robbi, and a promise to help a loved one are tasks left unfinished on the way to surgery. I'm overwhelmed with how to back up, jump-start my brain cells, and begin again.
I'd love to wave a magic wand to freeze time - or at least slow it down - that I might catch up with those who have forged on ahead. An impossibility, of course, and I'm wasting time longing for it.
Today that traintrack of thirty staples will be removed, and whether or not it's true, I feel like it will be a huge step forward in returning to my normal. I'm even planning on packing up my camera to take with me to my appointment with the surgeon in the hope that a photographic moment on the hour drive home won't go to waste. Who knows, because surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.