You can tell how really mundane your life is by life's little daily accomplishments.
Today is a big day for me. I blew dry my own hair for the first time in months.
Stop the presses - she blew dry her own hair. Wowee wow-wow. I didn't solve world hunger. I didn't settle our economic recession. I just took a friggin' shower and managed to stand up for 45 minutes and blew dry my fuzzy headed self.
Day 7 of synthroid. I think I need more. I am sleeping fairly well. Hard and deep when I actually do fall asleep. I am irritable, but that could just be a sign that I am returning to pre-op state. Skin is dry and patchy. Arms and legs fall asleep too easily. The scar is healing nicely, though. My voice is very strained and I wonder if I will ever be able to sing or shout with joy (or anger)again. Was there damage to the vocal chords or is this normal almost 3 weeks after surgery?
I also should put things in proper perspective. A friend's mother suffered an aneurysm and who -although she won't be playing golf any time soon, drives a mean golf cart against all odds that she would ever do so. Another whose mom had a brain tumor and wasn't supposed to live (doctor's actually told them to give up hope) who just got a day pass from her rehab center to attend a dance recital with her brother Kurt Russell - yes, shamless plug at a California brush with greatnesss. A cousin whose husband got a bad prostate PSA level and has to go in for a biopsy. Every day I hear about these things. Every friggin' day.
I guess I should revel in the little things that just a week or two ago seemed like big challenges to me. And, as today is a big day for me, I will.