Sometimes, I ask myself...
... if nobody reads this, is there a point in my writing it? And I guess the answer is yes, insofar as people write diaries, and records are useful, and I should base my feelings less on what other people feel.
I can never decide *what* to put in here because it tends to be the Reverse Princess Bride, aka the "bad parts version" - which not only is really unpleasant to look back on, it's not the truth, or its entirety, anyway. However, I feel like I need to write about this, since I can only call Matt so many times in a day to air my worries and ask for a medical opinion. My father - somehow I keep wanting to call him my Daddy, but then I remember that's only acceptable from adults if this is the south - is in the hospital. He's ok, at the moment, I guess as ok as you can be in the lead up to a triple bypass. He didn't have a heart attack. It was all caught. The past couple of days, nonetheless, have been hard; hard thinking of all the "what ifs" and "might have beens" and also the "what will bes." He has a great surgeon, and maybe this will help him to reframe the terms of his life, and his relationship with his body. I hope, too, selfishly, that it will change me, make my relationship with MY body less adversarial. I'll finally stop avoiding exercise, but finally make my desire to do so about something healthy; about love, not hate. I bought some running shoes and appropriate clothes so I won't get all chafed and a water bottle I can run with; I used up all my tip-jar coinstar amazon certificates. I need to do it, and I used money to do it. But holy cow, I'm scared to change. I can't even imagine how Dad is feeling right now. Do his higher stakes make the prospects easier, or harder? Is he even capable of thinking beyond the surgery right now? Would I be?
I can never decide *what* to put in here because it tends to be the Reverse Princess Bride, aka the "bad parts version" - which not only is really unpleasant to look back on, it's not the truth, or its entirety, anyway. However, I feel like I need to write about this, since I can only call Matt so many times in a day to air my worries and ask for a medical opinion. My father - somehow I keep wanting to call him my Daddy, but then I remember that's only acceptable from adults if this is the south - is in the hospital. He's ok, at the moment, I guess as ok as you can be in the lead up to a triple bypass. He didn't have a heart attack. It was all caught. The past couple of days, nonetheless, have been hard; hard thinking of all the "what ifs" and "might have beens" and also the "what will bes." He has a great surgeon, and maybe this will help him to reframe the terms of his life, and his relationship with his body. I hope, too, selfishly, that it will change me, make my relationship with MY body less adversarial. I'll finally stop avoiding exercise, but finally make my desire to do so about something healthy; about love, not hate. I bought some running shoes and appropriate clothes so I won't get all chafed and a water bottle I can run with; I used up all my tip-jar coinstar amazon certificates. I need to do it, and I used money to do it. But holy cow, I'm scared to change. I can't even imagine how Dad is feeling right now. Do his higher stakes make the prospects easier, or harder? Is he even capable of thinking beyond the surgery right now? Would I be?