Well it's March now...A funny thing happens sometimes when you have a blog, so I've heard. The second people start reading it, the less you want to post. I know, I know. I wrote about this in October. After my amazing experience at Oprah's O You! conference I started noticing people were reading the blog.
Not making headlines on the Huffington Post or anything crazy like that. But it feels different when someone you know comments in person about your blog. Wait...you read that? Who else is reading it? It's crazy, I know. Yet it still gave me pause and had me self-editing everything I wanted to write about. I started to worry about being to personal when we own a business and are working hard on our brand. It felt a bit like what I imagine walking down the street in underwear might feel like. And then I remembered something...that's stupid. I started this blog for a reason.
The past five years have been really tough. There. I said it. Sitting at a three hour pre-op appointment today for my upcoming sixth surgery (yes I said sixth) gave me lots of time to think. And think and think and think. The biggest part of my Fresh Start Project is getting back on my feet again, literally.
So next week I'm scheduled for what had better be my last surgery ever, not counting a few nips and tucks I've had my eye on. Kidding. Sort of. The fancy name for the surgery is a discectomy and possible laminectomy. I call it the get-this-damned-sciatic-nerve-under-control surgery.
Because trust me, you don't want to ever sit before anyone, especially a bunch of health care professionals, and listen to them tell you that you're "too young for these problems, sweetie". No kidding. As they hook you up to tests and draw blood, then ask you for the millionth time to rate your pain on a scale of 1 to 10. And you blink back tears and mutter "I don't know. It's been a tough couple of years" when you really want to scream "it's a 12, stop asking".
I sat there at the hospital promising myself I'd go home and write about it, so here it is. I've been told I won't remember exactly how I felt or what I was thinking down the road, and I want my story to help other people someday.
It's hard to imagine not remembering all of this, but I'm sorta glad I wrote it down, just in case...
