Two weeks ago, if someone would have asked me how I measured success, I would have had a very different answer than I do right now.
I had a good sleep. That makes a big difference. Yesterday, I went to the one day surgery, and Elaine was there again. She is a nice lady and we had a good talk about positive attitude and courage and faith. She says I've got it. I'm glad. I had arrived there exhausted to the point of simply feeling ill. I wasn't sure what I had. But we ended up having a good laugh, which is always a bit of new life for me. She looked at me quite seriously. "Have you ever considered stand-up comedy? You'd be good at it." Really, she's pretty funny stuff herself. The anaesthesiologist came in and we got into a great political discussion about the presidential debates. He's from Ethiopia, and it was fascinating to listen to his take on things. He's an idealist, like me, so next thing you know, he had pulled up a chair, and we were talking away, hands waving, fingers pointing, the whole nine yards. We were interrupted by a nurse with an unmistakeable no-nonsense attitude. There had already been two calls from the OR wanting to know where the both of us were. And when I woke up, that Elaine, who I had trained to perfection less than 36 hours before had a nice hot cup of coffee right there waiting for me, bless her pea-picking heart. I turned down the percoset. It's easier to deal with pain than it is to deal with the effects of the pain killer. I told them that I needed sleep, and wanted something to take at night. I got it. Tim and I stopped by DEP on the way home from the hospital, briefly, to thank them for the flowers, and we found plenty to laugh about there. Dinner has been dropped off. I had another nap. Even though, selfishly, I turned the phone off for a bit, people been calling. People have been helpful. I feel rested and lively. My spirit has been restored by sleep, by people, by laughter, by debate.
I feel good.
I feel confident in myself again.
This day, people, this day was a success.