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Sunday, June 27, 2004

Yay, yay, and hey--by the way--yay!

Yay 1: Despite a rather horrid night of asleep and not and nightmares and awake and general ikkiness, since rising this morning I have not considered vomiting even once. And I ate some breakfast, even! I mean, yes, okay; I still feel very much as though I was run over by a truck. But today I envision a small delivery van, perhaps something from FedEx Ground, rather than the large semi that had previously been featured in the Recurring Movie Of My Own Creation Explaining How I Came To Feel Like Complete And Utter Excrement. YAY!

Yay 2: I was able to corral my brain cells into attending to an entire DVD this morning! (Yes, I am aware that I am quite possibly the only person the planet who had not yet seen it. Shut UP.) (Besides, this way, I'm well prepared, now, to wait another two years before seeing the next one....) (Did I mention, shut up??) I did one single activity--granted, I pretty much only had to sit there, but still--for two and a half hours. Up until today, post-surgery, I was pretty lucky to hold my attention to an activity for about two and a half minutes. Besides enjoying the movie, this gives me great hope that they did not, in fact, accidentally remove my frontal lobe along with my uterus and peripheral organs. And there was much yay-type rejoicing!

Yay 3: The children will be landing in just a few hours, and I think I will have enough time to manage both a shower and a nap before they get here. At which time I am confident that I will smother them in so much ikky gooey Mama love that they will roll their eyes and beg me to stop. But not before I have kissed them a million gazillion times. It will be a lovefest of heretofore unknown proportions. And I will use every ounce of energy I can muster to drown them in a week's worth of pent-up maternal instinct, and when I am just inches from death, they will leave again. And I will go to sleep. And tomorrow I will get up, and perhaps feel even a smidge better, again, and then they will come back, to stay. And my parents will arrive. And I will be delirious with joy!

I believe this is as close to perfect as life gets when there is an area of your body roughly the size of a basketball that is simultaneously numb and burning with the fiery heat of searing pain. Trust me.