The Head and The Heart Vol.15

At Your Own Pace

Milestones and Mice

I had a moment last week that I hoped was a side effect of brain surgery.

I had finished my weekly ritual of making bone broth and made myself lunch. Following most activities at this rigor level, I need a rest. I went to our family room in the basement to watch tv before I attempted another activity. As I was enjoying watching a Grey’s Anatomy for the 5th time, I saw something scurry along the baseboards.

I thought: You just had brain surgery, your eyes are probably playing tricks on you.

I settled back into my show, refusing to believe that our new* house could have an intruder. A few minutes later I saw something scurry back. It was a mouse, in the house (insert crying emoji here). For the first time I was hoping I was experiencing a brain surgery side effect.

Hans, always the realist and aspiring minimalist, and always up for a home project quickly said: Well, it’s a great opportunity to clean through our storage closet and for me to renovate the bathroom!

My reaction was a bit different. I immediately messaged our realtor and told her to keep her eyes peeled for a new build in our area. Our realtor, one of my best friends, lamented with me + convinced me maybe a mouse wasn’t worth moving over.
She was right.

Bone Broth + testing my computer endurance.

Thoughts on Endurance

I’m going back to work (part-time) next week so I’ve been trying to work up my endurance. My leave of absence was officially done in February, but I had a lot of anxiety around being away from my dark, quiet, bedroom for more than an hour and managing my ever present (but much less painful) headaches. I listened to my body, I listened to my mind, I consulted with my teams of doctors, and pushed back my return to work date to April.

I’ve been working on a passion project that I was in the middle of before my aneurysm. It’s been a good test to see how long I can focus, how long I can be on my computer, and deadlines are flexible, since they’re set by me. More on this project soon…

While Hans had a new house project of investigating every inch of our basement, I was solo-parenting all day. Two park trips + cooking dinner = Complete exhaust.

The weird thing about my recovery and exhaust is it comes up so quickly. One minute I was helping Raine get ready for bed and felt completely fine, the next minute I needed to sit on the floor and tried to calmly ask Raine to sit on my lap quietly to read a book while I called Hans, hoping he would hear his phone in the middle of a Timberwolves game.

I try not to scare him with urgent phone calls like that, but I truly felt like I was going to faint. I think part of my anxiety is rooted in the fear that those moments - the ones where I feel like I’m going to faint - come up so quickly.

I sat on the floor, crying because my body hurt, but trying to read without Raine hearing the crackling in my voice.

My already very empathetic 2-year old turned to me and said: Mama, you okay?

I couldn’t look her in the eyes because I didn’t want her to see me crying. But she craned her neck down to catch my gaze.

I was able to muddle out: Yes Raine, Mama’s okay. I’m just really tired and I need to go to sleep. But I will be okay.

She gave me a big hug and just let me hold her. We sat there for five minutes, quietly, together (which is a really really long time for a toddler to sit still). I kept saying to myself this meditation + prayer + call it whatever you want that I’ve been saying to myself a lot lately:

At your own pace.
On your own time.
Rest. Rest. Rest.

And let myself sit, accepting that my pace needed to be slower in that moment and grateful I could sit with my toddler in silence for a few minutes.

I never thought this day would come

I can’t believe I’m typing this but I am officially and very happily a Costco member. During a recent Rose Nest All Hands** we decided to accept accepted our fate as Costco members.

I went on a trip solo and was curious how I would manage. In the middle of my trip - between the lights, the rows and rows and rows of product, and the weight of my cart, I needed a rest. I’m learning that Costco truly does have everything, so I was able to find a really comfortable couch to rest on for awhile. I’ve often been tempted to have a sign up that says “I had brain surgery less four months ago. And sometimes, I need to rest” to explain why I was sprawled out across the furniture for thirty minutes. I don’t know why I need to justify my rest? (something to unpack in therapy, probably) but I do know that on more than one occasion as I’ve needed to sit on a bench or pause before doing, I’ve felt the need to explain my rest.

Thirty minutes later, I had the energy to check out + drive home. The store manager had walked by me on a few occasions and, I could tell, could sense I wasn’t feeling the best. As soon as I went to check out he followed me and bagged all my food.

The kindness of strangers has been a constant thread during my recovery. I continue to be so grateful for the helpers.

I now fully understand the Costco craze.

Thank you, always, for your continued love and support.

XO,

R

*New house = new to us and just slightly newer than our old house.
Old house = built in 1914.
New house = built in 1916.

**We aim to have bi-weekly household meetings to talk about budgets, dreams, and calendars. They’re equal parts annoying and necessary but are 100% more manageable with a glass of wine.