Just a few days ago, I came home from a short stay at the hospital, where I had the pleasure of minor surgery to remove my appendix. It was about as pleasant of an experience I could have possibly had at the hospital, and I was even able to come home the evening after surgery.
Overall, I’m feeling quite well. I’m up and about, walking around and barely even using any of the meds they sent me home with. But overall, I’m moving quite slowly. I was bummed to have to stay home while my Brian and our friend (another Brian) went on a waterfall adventure, a location I had been looking forward to photographing for quite some time. I’m sure I’ll make it out there with them in the near future, so I’m not too disappointed. Instead, I’m trying to find things around the house to occupy my time.
I always have work to do, and as I type this I am sitting in my beautiful newly-furnished office, sitting on my chair. If I could, I would sit here and work all afternoon (thanks to my finicky appendix, I’m behind on a new product I’ve been working on releasing for my online store). However, the irony is that sitting for extended periods of time is more painful than getting up and walking around. I have been trying to keep my periods of sitting or lying down to a minimum, which is irritating when I have so many things I could be working on.
These periods of in-between are frustrating. I want to be productive, but something out of my control is holding me back. I even wrote about this feeling a few months back as I was waiting to move to Portland. Now, I’m in Portland and as happy as can be, but all of the things I want to do are just out of my grasp.
There is, of course, a good side to all of this. It is forcing me to slow down. Every movement I make is intentional, and slow, and achy. I’m seeing the simple things around me differently. I drank my morning coffee on the front porch this morning with my dog, Kodak, and we watched as the crows waddle around the yard looking for food. While watching this, all I could think to myself was “Why are they walking, when they can fly?!”. And then I immediately answered my own question: They walk because they need to move slowly, or else they’ll miss out on the good stuff.
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