onions have layers

I've been thinking a lot about the layers of my life.  Just like Shrek, I have layers.  Somewhere there is a core of me.  It has been covered up by so much of my life that I've forgotten who I really am.  And I've wondered if I got down to the core, would that person still bear any semblance to me?

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about how all these different layers of my life intersect with each other, how some layers have been peeling back a bit to expose bits and pieces of all these layers to form a newly emerged version of me.  It's so late and I'm too tired to be articulate about this now--but I needed to put the words somewhere so I don't lose them.

I'm trying to figure out how to write about this, since I don't even have it figured out yet.  I had thought of explaining who I used to be and how that all got covered up.  That was feeling too negative, though, and I don't want to be negative.  So I'll come back to this and talk about the peeling back of layers--through my medical issues, through my iPod, and through Facebook.

another episode of "boys are weird"

My 16-year old son and his two best friends are sitting in the same room as me talking about pubic hair and wrestling and Keira Knightley. I don't think these three subjects were part of the same conversation, but I can't be sure.

I have learned the lesson of invisible motherhood. When my children are with their friends, I prefer to be silent and listen. I learn much (maybe too much) about them.

not my bladder study

Back  in October I had a urodynamics study.  It was incredibly embarrassing, and I was quite upset that they didn't find anything that could be dealt with during my hysterectomy.  At one point, I found myself growling something along the lines of, "Why the @#! did I have this study done if they weren't going to find anything?"  Today I found out.

One of my co-workers is facing some major health issues right now, with the probability of a degenerative neurological disorder.  I stopped by her office to check on her today and she told me she was nervous about a test she is having Tuesday.  Because her bladder has been affected by her medical condition, she will be having a urodynamics study.  As soon as I realized that she was describing the same test I'd had done, I was able to describe the procedure for her and stress how much dignity I was treated with.  Even though I fainted and I was really embarrassed at the time, I felt that I was treated very well.  She was so reassured by this, and by knowing that someone really knew what this test was like.  At that moment, I felt like there had been a purpose for me to go through that.  For me, the test was just about deciding whether to add an extra step to my surgery.  For her, the test is part of a whole change in her life and it has major implications for her future.  It made me feel good to have a difficult experience for me serve a purpose.

yikes

My son got his driver's license today.  His first trip was to drive to the store to pick up hot dog buns.  What an exciting journey.

tattoo

I've decided on my tattoo. It is the Celtic symbol for the phases of womanhood: maiden, mother, and crone.

what I've learned from my hysterectomy support website

I’ve gotten totally addicted to my hysterectomy support website. I’ve learned some things.

1. The internet is mostly wonderful. I have no one in my face-to-face life to talk with about my hysterectomy, at least not someone who has been there and truly know what the experience can be like. Yet online, I’ve found women who have experienced the same gynecological and recovery issues and I am very much not alone. If I didn’t have these women to “talk” to, my doctor would have banished me from her office by now with all the questions and concerns I’ve had.

2. I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be in recovery. With this support website, my primary identity is that of hysterectomy patient. At some point, I will no longer require the support of the women on this website. However, I feel such a pull to the sense of community I’ve found there. Will I be tempted to stay there simply to stay connected? Will I now perceive every twinge and experience through the lens of hysterectomy simply so I can justify the continuation of identifying myself as a hysterectomy patient and justify my presence on that site? This is teaching me something about some of my students who struggle with addictive behaviors. The value and attention that comes with an addiction or disorder can be, in itself, addictive. In some cases, perhaps the biggest barrier to recovery is not the loss of the behavior but the loss of the identity. I know this is probably obvious to most people, but it just isn't something I've thought much about. Now I just need to figure out what that suggests about how I should interact with some of my students.

3. I have something to offer. In addition to getting the support I’ve needed, I’ve gained a lot from the responses I’ve given to other women. I’ve come to realize that I’ve been missing this in my own life. So now I need to think through what I want to do to be more giving and how to share my experiences in a way that is helpful. I’m not sure what path this will take, but somehow I’ve been given the opportunity to tap into something that has been buried within myself for many years.

4. The internet is not life. Surgery is not life. Even my late uterus was not life. Life is life, and I have one chance to live it.

clean towels

It seems that my family never has clean towels. Even after I wash a load of all the towels I can find in the bathroom and the laundry room, we still have less than ten.

Last night, I walked into my daughter's room to put some clean laundry on her bed. A quick glance showed six towels on her floor. I called her upstairs immediately and asked her to gather the towels up to take to the laundry room. When I said that I'd seen six, she responded, "That means that there are probably ten. The record was fourteen." It seemed that each towel she picked up revealed two or three underneath. She ended up finding a total of 21 towels in her room.

When she takes a shower, she wraps one towel around her body and one around her hair. Since she showers at night, the wet towels somehow end up staying in her room and then she forgets to take care of them in the morning.

So in a few minutes I'm headed downstairs to see how many towels can fit into the washing machine at one time.