let me convince you on the yoga again: OHS preparation
K so I am on Day 5 of the yoga tomorrow or today I have no idea, whatever-I might have just done one twice but that’s because I sometimes have let it go past certain points as it’s a continuous stream and not the class by class selection you generally get with selections. I like her and I think my husband would as well–her encouragements are glossed up with too many parables or stories–my husband remains pretty ill-impressed by the crystal woo-ness of some stories, but his first complaint was really misandry disguised as concern. I’d tell that story another time, but that’s the crux of my issues getting him to try things sometimes. He claims to be a nihilist, never believing in anything, which does seem to be true as the power he has he sometimes neglects to realize. I truly believe your attitude portends the outcome a lot of the time, or almost every time.
But yes, the yoga recommendation is going to be one I can point out would be beneficial because if you get your body moving and more flexible, you can increase your digestion, your blood flow, your breath, you know, the stuff that keeps you alive working better is not a bad thing at all. I took a bunch of VERY unflattering photos of myself to show progress–I do look like shit and I can see my underwear has sort of drawn a line in my ass where it often sits like a weird tight cut-off point. I suppose some new underwear investment after I get past this series would not be awful. The point I am trying to prepare for is the scrunched up positions you are often left in after surgery like this–it is the body’s response to damage on the breast plate, a slow recession and curl of the shoulders over to protect the chest. Increasing blood flow to the gut and heart would probably not be the worst plan either. I also had my last smoke today–I had to admit to myself I felt it made me feel a bit heavy in my chest which is not something I need to be feeling anymore. Sure it might exist as some traumatic spiritual alleviation sometimes but I just have to not anymore. Granted I cut down a lot over the years and really rarely do but it’s enough to make like it seems I feel better smoking it vs not having access at all. I mean having access all day every day vs twice a day to none a day, my cut down has been smart. Again, you want to be a purist, all on you but for me, I’ve had to find relief in better ways. No alcohol no smoking just food and yoga and 10k walk patterns and lots of help with vitamins, and supplements. There is definitely time for me to really steady myself.
I went back looking to see how well my brain did with weeks notice vs many weeks and I have no idea–at that point I don’t know that I was as nervous about my prospects–I would have deserved it had I died at that point, for reasons I believed at the time, but right now my mind’s a little more evolved than that. I am certainly not ready to go and I realize better people with bigger families who were noticed when they died have died of dissection so I know my luck might not be the permanent thing you’d hope.
The last big open heart and surgeries I did see my birth mother helped me through–kind of sad reading how grateful I was and how all that gratitude is just a distant memory. The last time I felt gratitude for her was pre-kick out, when she helped us with a few months of cheaper rent because he wasn’t working at that point. Our evolution has been truly a full turn around since–now I haven’t worked in a few years under anyone else’s schedule and though I am broke and have no cash and no disability and it sucks, he’s taken on the burden of my life. I don’t have her in my life at all or any of her family–mostly because there’s no way to separate them from each other and I never saw anyone except with her as the common denominator and they didn’t give a shit aside. Reading back, however, there were points in time where she was a comfort vs what she’s evolved into in my brain–someone who threw me away twice in one lifetime. Sure, it’s fucking dramatic and probably a bit too simple for many people’s reading pleasure, but ultimately that’s how I felt and I’ve said as much to her and other of her family members.
My husband now wants to invite HIS mom to come take care of me. People taking care of me aside from a direct hospital setting is still kinda foreign–keep in mind my birth mother came that time BECAUSE I couldn’t imagine finding comfort in my mother as our time growing up was a bit too caustic for me to feel I would want her there trying to get better. My birth mother was comforting, she’s got a very calm way about her–at this point she’s not been a part of things since December of 2017. D claims his mother is great in these situations, but my place is small, and I don’t know that she can escape anywhere too easily. Of course there are the virus concerns, too, but I’d imagine she would take that very seriously coming here and I would probably send her a SHERO anyhow as well as my list of tips and tricks to avoid COVID infection. He has had a very bad relationship with her historically and I’ll admit I have my judgments about some of her moves with him growing up and even with her involvement with his daughter, I think she pulled some stunts I have a hard time respecting, but I’ll always always support him over everyone so that’s how it goes. Nobody else has done more for me and I have had some generous people in my life–he’s done as much as he could to help me out and put me in the best place possible to survive as much as I can.
One thing I’ll say is this kind of notice is almost too much–but I hope to use it well. I’m trying hard to imagine my time in the hospital and after and I am coming up blank. Is it because I smoked weed and my brain won’t let me OR is it some foretelling shit might not go down as planned? Couldn’t tell ya–I don’t feel anything foreboding as I generally do when shit’s about to get stupid, but still there’s the fact that I won’t count on any mythical concept of GOD for continuance, but the talent and detail my surgeons possess and use, some of them gods in their own right. I have the best in the area, the one the cardiologists would suggest they would go to apparently–he’s affiliated with the Cleveland Clinic and his team looked pretty glossy on their little cover page, but I am still doing some of the work I wish he had done–I sent a request to Mt Sinai for the most recent Bentall procedure which I assume means they touched that valve with so he has the full information spread. I don’t want him putting a valve in there he shouldn’t if there’s a note about something pertinent before he gets in there. That’s one huge thing to remember if you switch hospitals and locations as much as I have–you have to make sure the complete record is somewhere people have it–ALSO hospitals with medical schools attached only. I swear if that’s the only rule you follow having heart disease of any kind, and I do mean genetic and even the COVID-infected—get yourself in University studies as they will always have more money than everyone and more investment in current technologies because they are schools sucking tuition out of everyone.
TODAY: egg muffins with red pepper, mushrooms, spinach and cheese, 4 mandarins. Today I AM making something sweet–the bananas are about black so maybe those or the blueberry bars or maybe banana blueberry bars–OR should I get the almond butter chocolate chip ones which are stellar I have made them a million times.
I have a lot to say now that I could be saying it for the last time but I also don’t want to use all I have to say right now, not just yet. Posting is what it is–I am working on videos now but I am working on getting 9 done then adding on as time goes on–there’s an endless array of subjects to cover. If I get out of this next one of course it will be a testament to the wonders of modern technology—the shit they did even in 2006 has been far improved–but I have been double split before–triple seems about good enough, no? My magic 3 might come in to save me you’d hope.
