Last night I went out on my first excursion since the surgery. The affair was unexpectedly complicated due to the following:
- I cannot yet wear clothes that come into contact with the incisions.
-and-
- I do not own any clothes that do not come into contact with the incisions.
I gave Ariel my own beloved hoodie after I weaned my final baby. Most of my wardrobe was purged during the move. I have only the bare essentials – perhaps even a bit less than most people. For instance, I don’t own any socks.
So I edged into the world dressed in old tattered yoga pants (the voluminous variety with drawstring waist), a Breeder shirt, and Byron’s black hoodie. I had to borrow socks from my daughter, who owns no hosiery that is not brightly striped and knee-high.
I helped the kids pick out birthday presents for friends and rode along while Byron dropped various girls at a slumber party, then we ate soup and watched the lunar eclipse. I was exhausted by the time we came back, but that just meant that I slept well.
In fact, I was able to sleep on my side for the first time in over a week.
Tonight I was feeling even more ambitious and drove myself to the co-op. The ride was fine but I had forgotten about the Utne thing.
My daughter kept announcing to passerby that we are in the current issue. She even opened a copy to show the checkout clerk. I closed my eyes and hummed and pretended that I was somewhere else.
My tummy is settled enough that I think I can tolerate some normal foods. I am really looking forward to opening my black sesame rice crackers.