same but different

I was back at the hospital this morning; it was this third time in less than a week. It was the first time that I have had pulmonarythromboendarerectomy roll of my tongue before I had a chance to think about it. In the beginning I didn't know what I was saying and I would have to read the words in order to say them. For months I would picture the words in my mind broken down into pieces and go step by step -- brain, mouth, brain, mouth. Today I said it and then had to pause and wonder if I'd gotten it right, or close. It was like saying your phone number without thinking about it. If you stop in the middle you can't figure out what you are saying and the mind goes blank; so you just keep going and trust your body.

Once again I am having to trust my body. It is not as easy as it sounds or as easy as it was a couple years ago, but I am trying. I know for the most part I use this site for snapshot updates of whatever I have taken a picture of. I tend to be (at least) a few weeks behind -- Christmas IS coming -- and there isn't much critical evaluation or emotion in the posts. It still feels a bit strange in a public forum to do more, but I will take the observations that have been offered into consideration. In the same way that I don't feel I have sorted out what I am doing, and my body is evidently not yet ready to accept a new *normal*, this blog is still in the stage of early development. I, for one, am interested to see where it all ends up.

So as not to worry anyone, I have decided that no news is good news on this most recent round of tests. Things aren't quite what they were in September (I am told), but in my mind I am seeing all of this as a blip, like a cold, something that is on its way out so I can get back to taking long walks. Hopefully that last time I will have to hear, "just try to stay as still as possible," before my next birthday.