On Sunday, I woke up in pain. On Monday, I woke up without an appendix.
There’s this weird thing that happens when you’re going too fast in life, where life forces you to slow down. I’ve found this to be true on several occasions, but my recent stint at the hospital and the lagging recovery has reminded me of this way the universe seems to work.
This semester has been hard for me thus far. It has also been great. I’ve been trying to strike a balance between engaging in all the things in my life that keep me motivated while also making sure they don’t deplete me. It’s been new and challenging. I’ve had to reorganize myself and walk the learning curve that comes with my new position on the newspaper while still fully participating in my recovery, my self-care, and my life, otherwise.
Undergoing surgery, however, has been extremely humbling. I’ve come to know my body’s limitations at baseline and it’s something I struggle to respect. I often find myself pushing myself too hard or trying to do too much and wondering why I can’t do everything I schedule or, when I do, why I get overwhelmed. Spending the past four days in the hospital and then the infirmary, I have been reminded of how very much I truly can do when I’m well. I’ve learned my body’s limitations when it’s strained, on a different level. Recovering, I’m regaining my energy. This looks like feeling proud when I go for a walk, or eating to nurture my health. I’m reminded of the basic tasks I’m able to do, which I often take for granted.
Though the circumstances aren’t ideal, I’m grateful for the time I have and that which I am taking to rest and heal. I’m grateful for the messages my body sends me to tell me when things are wrong and it’s ability to recover. I’m grateful for the help I’m able to receive and my willingness to accept the support. I’m grateful for the people who have been by my side and those that have reached out from afar. I’m grateful for my strength and that which I gain each day. I am lucky.