We are finding our new post- surgery rhythm. Things are slow and quiet and it is nice but also constricting. My man continues to do well in his recovery, but it is a recovery. He is slow and careful and winces every time our very physical 4 1/2 year old son gets too close. Yesterday I passed him three times on the stairs. The poor man sneezed last night and I thought he might pass out. There is a concave dip in his belly where the muscle used to be, and the hole from the drain still hasn’t closed completely.
Yesterday we made a family trip to the ice cream shop. Today we didn’t make it out. I arranged a play date for our daughter though- she seemed to really need to return to the world. After her play date she morphed back into a complete grouch within minutes. I invited her along on my walk- a rare treat for her-so we could both walk off our grumpies. And it worked. We had a nice walk, and a good talk and at some point along the way I caught a glimpse of us: “look at you mothering this child,” some voice piped up- “meeting her needs and your own- way to go”! I have a hard time with the slower rhythm and I have to really remind myself to enjoy these quiet days. But how often do we get this golden pass to only deal with the absolute minimum, how often do we get to have papa home for weeks on end.
Now we are waiting for the pathology report: did they get negative margins, can they get any closer to determining what type of sarcoma this is? Then another trip to Boston for a follow up. For now more quiet days enjoying late summer in rural new england.