This past weekend was exactly what I needed. I started writing this post (including the subject line) before I talked to my mom, but when I told her all about my weekend her response was, "Just what the doctor ordered." Like mother, like daughter!
Not only was it great to see the girls (and Drew) and catch up and even meet new friends, it was great to leave the house for more than a day at work or a few hours running errands, which I haven't done in more than a month. I'm feeling great. I'm not napping more than an hour or two a week, I'm sticking to my Mondays and Thursdays yoga schedule, and I'm going to look into a short-term gym membership. Maybe just back at the Y, and I can start going before work on the days I don't go to yoga and maybe do something else on the weekends like I have been meaning to - hikes and other winteresque New England things like cross-county skiing, snowshoeing, etc., now that winter weather is probably only weeks away.
I am back to 40 hours a week (or more) at work. I still have no feeling on the right side of my face except for the occasional itch (that I can't scratch) or shooting pain. I have some cold-like symptoms that have persisted since the surgery, but apparently that's normal. My headaches are greatly reduced. I didn't have one all weekend...or if I did, I was too busy having fun to notice.
Most of you know that I am presently living "at home." Apparently the term for someone like me is "boomerang kid." After living on my own since two weeks after graduating college (and all but the summers during college), I moved back into my childhood home in February. For starters, I was offered my job while still working at my job in Florida, so I obviously didn't have time to find an apartment from 1,500 miles away while packing and trying to finish out my last two weeks at work. Secondly, I knew I was going to be having this major surgery. I really thought it was going to be sooner than September but it wasn't so here I am, still living at home. I am actively searching and should be out of there by January 1 (at least that's my goal/plan), but for now, I'm a boomeranger - for better or worse.
Anyway, my point was that since February, I am quite certain my dad has not slept past 4 a.m. on a weekday except for once when he overslept and woke up around 5 a.m. I know this because around 4:03 a.m. every morning, he quietly opens my door and Rags happily leaps off the bed to go for his first walk of the day with my dad. Occasionally, Rags is tired and doesn't want to get up right away, or he is being a ridiculously spoiled dog and is sleeping under my covers and doesn't see/hear the door open. On weekends, my dad may sleep till 6 or so, but I'm always still so deeply asleep I don't notice. Half the time I wake up, thinking it's the middle of the night, and wonder where Rags is. Then I see the time and realize he's either on a walk or eating breakfast, because he's usually right back in bed by 4:30 a.m. when Dad leaves for work (he's nuts - don't ask).
This morning, when I woke up just before 7 a.m., Rags was on the bed. However, my door was shut tight and he was still "naked" - meaning he wasn't wearing his harness (he doesn't wear it to bed). I looked out the window and saw my dad's car still in the driveway. I rechecked the time. Yup, 6:52 a.m. I panicked. Of course, I'm reasonable and rational, so the first thought that went through my head is, "Dad is dead." His bedroom door was shut tight, so I knocked and Shaggy barked. Still no response so I cracked the door open. "Dad? Are you OK?" Fortunately, he quickly responded, "I'm sick," in a barely audible voice because my fingers were on my iPhone, ready to call 911. My dad rarely gets sick. He never takes sick days even if he is. And he never sleeps in. So you will understand my assumption was not that irrational.
I took the dogs for a quick morning walk because I didn't have a whole lot of time. I'm one of those people who will sleep as late as I can, calculating minutes and seconds in my head. I shower at night so all I really need to do in the morning is wash my face, brush my teeth, straighten my hair, apply makeup (all while watching the Today Show), let the dogs out for a quick pee (since it's now been four hours since their last potty break), make my coffee and head out the door (don't worry, I eat breakfast as soon as I get to my desk - instant oatmeal). Fortunately, I still made it out the door by 8:05, which is actually earlier than most days. I was the first one to the office, so it all worked out. Except I hate being the last one to leave and the first one to arrive. It's so depressing, but it's also because I like to be punctual and I am still playing catch up from my two weeks off and two weeks of part-time, so I had to force myself to leave on time yesterday.
Speaking of yesterday, I went to a moderate yoga class. There were only maybe eight people in class, which is hardly anything compared to most classes at the studio. Then again, it was 5:45 on a Monday evening, so I imagine most people are still stuck at work or too cranky about the weekend being over to come to yoga. I don't think I can make that class a regular thing because it was a small miracle that I could leave work on time (4:30) yesterday. Either way, it was a challenge for once. I have the slightest soreness in my upper thighs, butt, and lower back today. I definitely needed the challenge. Pretty soon, I'll work my way back up to ashtanga (hot) yoga. For now, I'm sticking to some moderate classes and a good, clean diet.
No comments:
Post a Comment