Where Has the Time Gone?

My last post was almost a year ago, noting the birthday I share with Canada and offering an update on the something resembling a resolution I'd made six months earlier. Since then? Well, it's been a hell of a year. I have lost count of the number of times people have told me how well they think I've handled that year, but now, as an actual one-year mark approaches, I find it harder to find the humor that's helped me laugh instead of cry, though I admit to having cried more in the last eleven months than in any previous eleven months, babyhood excepted. 

I went in for spinal surgery last July expecting to be in the hospital, maybe, around five nights. I left five weeks later ... with COVID even. I have a vague memory of the night of the surgery being told that due to a problem with a robotic camera, surgery had taken seven hours rather than the expected three-and-a-half. I have vague memories of total delirium including one of watching my world split apart and wondering if that was what a psychotic break was like. (It's not.) When I actually became aware of life around me, I was in a hospital bed with a tube coming out of my back, a bag of urine at my side, and unable to move my left leg. The spinal fusion  itself had worked--what walking I can do now is without the pain I used to have with every step--but in the process, three spinal nerves were damaged, and my left ureter was severed. Fast forward almost 11 months, and I can walk on my own very unsteadily though I typically use a walker or rollator, or occasionally trekking poles. I also just started wearing an AFO (ankle-foot orthosis) on  my left leg. That progress is thanks to 81 (yes, 81 so far) appointments with a stellar physical therapist. I also now only have one kidney and will this coming week find out just what the ramifications of that may be. No, this has not been a good year.

So why write something now? Because I'm supposedly handling this so well even if I'm not, and talking to a keyboard is easier than talking to most people. And I do typically write something for my birthday and have been thinking just what I might say then and whether to offer any resolution(s) to make up for the one(s) I did not make when the calendar year began almost six months ago. 

The year has not been totally a loss, though. One year ago tomorrow, our first grandchild was born. We have reveled in watching him grow not to mention watching his parents deal with the many challenges he presents. To date he has opened child-proof medicine bottles, cabinet locks, supposedly-secured toy boxes, and refrigerators. He learned to pull off outlet covers but was stopped before sticking something in. He knows how to prop a cabinet door open with something while working to empty it of its contents to create a cave. He also loves books and dogs, two things dear to my own heart. This year would have been a lot harder without him. (We agree with his parents that there will be no social media photos of him.) 

I'll continue to ponder any resolutions I might be willing to make and possibly even post again before the upcoming birthday. For what it's worth, I'll be joining my husband and older brother in the 70s.