'Fire can both destroy and provide warmth. Illness is the same. I can feel joyful when I am sick. During an illness, the burden of everyday concerns disappears, and when I am cured, I once again feel his pressure.' - Leo Tolstoy
It's only on hindsight that I could ascertain I was indeed joyful at my most vulnerable.
I have no idea what to expect for my first myomectomy post-recovery. Upon consciousness, I just felt the body weak and distant. The body and mind were separate entities.
Lying in bed made me realized the tremendous milestone achievable by the body every single day. Silently bustling with unwavering determination, the busy body is constantly smoothing the nervous mind through an inexhaustible healing slumber.
The 'hyper-sensationalized' body was my source of comfort. It was constantly communicating to me on its progress through the 10.5cm wound (of course) uterus, bladder, fallopian tube, etc. And now as I got better, their acute presence is no longer keenly felt, it really feels like I have lost a friend.
I missed being in LALA-land with my friend(s).
The Iron Curtain (1948)
1 hour ago