Great day today. Walked, did a little bit of (careful, doc permitted) exercise, ate some soft and some solid food, laughed with my honey and my boys and connected with friends, loving and supporting them, and snuggled my pets. Rested well, too. Did all the things to take care of myself that the doc recommends and that my soul needs. Rubbed healing stuff on my belly and smiled at the lumps and bumps and my long and winding scar. And now I’m laying in bed, like every night for the last 4.5 weeks, feeling the stinging/aching pain at the internal suture site while I’m waiting for the gazzilionth dose of ibuprofen/Tylenol (very minimal - one each every 6 hours for all those flipping out) to kick in, icing the sore spot on and off, and listening to the gurgles, whines, and pings inside my belly, as I try to sleep between trips to the bathroom. Glad to be here, grateful, and all that- I’m just saying. It’s for real. I’m gonna keep posting the hard stuff between the pretty stuff because that’s how to serve well. This ain’t easy, and I’m not always smiling, but I remember to smile over and over again and that’s what matters.