Happy New Year! First off, thanks to everyone who wished me well because of my recent cholecystectomy (the gall bladder is apparently called the "cholecyst"). And thanks to those who spared precious time for me throughout the harrowing period. I'm scheduled for a check up this week at Medical City, and I'm wishing that the hospital's pathology department hadn't found anything malignant in the extracted specimen.
A week after the operation, I'm feeling better, though being totally out of the woods won't happen after another month or so. I can't exert myself physically, can't eat fatty or fried food, can't climb long flights of stairs, can't a-whole-lotta-things, also for at least a month. Yesterday, I was at SM City Marikina for the first time to get a few groceries and take a whiff of the fresh mall. Accompanied by my sis and niece, I was sluggishly walking around like I was seventy, particularly difficult since I'm one speed walker.
(In case you're wondering, I've been off the ciggies, too. With the transition from pack-a-day to zero, the cravings have been murder, but I'm fighting them off well. I'd like to kick the habit for good.)
I was able to take a bath this afternoon, my first in six days, but I had to have the wound covered up with plastic and tape--doctor says the spoils of war can't get wet. There's still a weird shifty feeling beneath the wound, as if innards had been moved around, and I still get paranoid over the wound suddenly bursting open. After my bath, I had the redress the wound, and saw that it consisted of two short incisions, each less than an inch long spaced a little over an inch apart. Not as bad as I had thought.
Because of this development, I wasn't able to make the most of the Yuletide break. I had planned to draw more Zaturnnah pages, finish more work at the office, haul all my stuff from the San Antonio house back to Marikina before the contract expires in a few days, and spend time with friends whom I haven't seen in ages. So much I could have done, but... none of that happened. It was all about me being still, immobile, in stasis, the ultimate slowdown... and poorer by tens of thousands of pesos.
I feel the Universe trying to tell me something, but I'm not sure what.
Is She telling me to take it easy and let go of some of my dreams? Is She telling me to push, to persevere, despite the occasional obstacle and the hovering threat of poverty? Or is she telling me to change direction, that the paths I've chosen to take would be better suited for someone else?
This is a great way to begin 2009.