Tag: recovery

More Time Off

When we came home from vacation in… June? May? Early June, I think, we immediately planned another trip for the early fall. We were going to go to San Diego for a few days and then go to Los Angeles for a day or so and then come home. Just a massively huge, yet very short trip. We both booked time off from work and then right afterwards cancelled the whole thing in favor of another Florida trip in January.

We kept the vacation time on the books though. We thought maybe we’d go on a short trip somewhere closer to home. New York or the mountains in New Hampshire or something. Then as we got closer and closer to the start of the vacation time we started thinking about cancelling the time off and just waiting for the next big trip after the new year.

Then my father went into the hospital. Then my father passed away. Then we had the wake and the funeral. Now we’re down to one more work day before the start of the time off and there is no more talk of cancelling, despite having taken time off for my father. No. We’re going to have a staycation. We’re going to spend a week flaking on the living room couch watching Star Wars movies (Jen’s idea, not mine, I swear) and just ignoring civilization for a week.

I speak for myself when I say this, but I know Jen feels the same. I am not taking this time off from work because I want it. I am taking it because I need it. Physically and mentally. I need to shut down for a bit. I need to recharge my battery. I need to recover from the last month or so.

I have one work day left. Tomorrow is Friday. After that? One week’s worth of staycation. I am so ready for it. Give it to me, now.

Nothing to Write About

I feel like I have nothing to write about. I’m sitting at my desk listening to a podcast and trying to eat a little pureed chicken. I have nothing to write about. I am so focused on getting my 60 ounces of liquids and 60 grams of protein in each day that I haven’t really worried about anything other than binge watching some TV. I’ve also spent a ton of time stressing over my mother’s situation, but I am not sharing that today so sorry not sorry.

I haven’t payed any attention to the NHL playoffs and I’ve barely payed attention to baseball, beyond checking the Red Sox scores once a day. I did finally finish reading Steve Hackett’s autobiography. There wasn’t a whole lot of detail there, but it was still a good read. I’m thinking Mike Rutherford’s book might be next. Get some of that Charterhouse story and all that.

I weighed myself today. Remember the other day when I wrote something about how I didn’t want to weigh myself all of the time? Yeah, I weighed myself again. If the scale I keep in the bedroom is accurate I have lost 60 pounds since January 19th. That is insane.

Should I play guitar after I post this meandering crap of a post? Jen is working in her office and Harry is working at his new job so why not just make a little noise on my own? I don’t know. I’m a little wary of it for some reason. I don’t know why. It’s a weird feeling. I don’t know.

Maybe I’ll goof around with the blog and see if I can find a new theme and layout. Maybe I’ll do that for a while, maybe not. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll sneak in some Breaking Bad. I only have about half of the final season left to go. Maybe I’ll check iBooks and see how much Mike Rutherfords’ book costs.

Drive

Jen and I went for a drive today. You wouldn’t think that was a huge deal but there it is. We drove to Danvers and back. In full pandemic mode, we didn’t go anywhere, we just drove there and drove back.

It was magnificent.

It made me a smidge late for my lunch but it was okay. I took a water bottle with me so I could keep sipping. Puréed tuna fish for lunch, puréed meatball for dinner.

It’s been a good day. Tuesday should be the day when I graduate to solid food. I’m good for now, but I’m feeling pretty ready to chew stuff again.

One Week and One Day

Okay. The weight loss surgery date is one week from tomorrow. It’s hitting me. Or at least it’s starting to, and it’s coming from directions I did not expect.

I’m putting together notes for co-workers so they can cover some of my regular responsibilities while I’m out for a whole month. The result is feelings of guilt. Big time feelings of guilt. Not the soul destroying guilt I was buried under a year ago when things were going really bad at my parents house, but a new, fresh, form of guilt.

Guilt over all of the things I won’t be able to do at home until after I recover. Guilt for the burden I am going to be on Jen and Harry and (eventually) Bellana. Even guilt over needing to finish the cellar before the surgery date and therefore putting the contractor into a position where he felt he needed to stay at our house working until 10:00 last night, and 9:30 one night last week.

I did not see this coming, but here it is.

Shit.