My visit with the plastic surgeon today was transformed from a procedure into a consultation, and ended with the decision that we were far enough along to schedule the next surgery. Ideally in six weeks, though my church schedule for Lent may push it past Easter.
My surgeon seemed genuinely pensive and regretful as it finally became clear to him how painful this process has been for me. "This is definitely unusual," he said. I have no way of judging. But he went on to say, "I have a patient who comes in here at lunchtime and returns to teaching yoga all afternoon, and you're telling me that you basically cancel Thursday and Friday?"
"Every week, " I said, "on Saturday I start yoga and walking again, and by Wednesday I'm doing pretty well, and then I come here on Thursday, drive home, and creep into my recliner to stay for at least a day."
Now, though, some hope. Six weeks to stretch, walk, lose some weight ~ and then I plan to take four to six full days off to recover from what should be a fairly easy surgical procedure.
In the meantime, I have some reading and discernment to do to decide how much a match matters to me. I'm inclined to leave my real side alone till I've had some time to see how they both look and how I feel about them. And to explore alternative methods of pain relief. Western medicine has completely failed me in that regard, so I'm more than ready to look elsewhere.
Image: Nina Hope Pfanstiehl, Through the Looking Glass, here.