One Year Cansuh-free, That’s Me!
It’s funny how the memory works.
From this day last year, I remember key moments.
First of all, I remember my whole family wearing Team Christie shirts to the hospital to support me.
And I remember that I got a t-shirt made specially for that day, it said, “I’m blogging this,” and I wore it that day. In hindsight I should have worn my sombrero, too. That would have been timely.
I remember being all strong and badass that morning until they wheeled me into the hallway outside the operating room where they left me to go prepare, and then I remember promptly freaking out and crying in the stretcher outside the operating room in the hallway where they left me.
I remember the doctor scolding the person who left me alone out there to cry like that and things like that are still why I love him today.
I remember that he brought my family to me and that I felt a little better and then they gave me some drug that made me feel as if I were about to be whisked away to the Caribbean and I turned around and waved goodbye happily with a big huge Bon Voyage! when it was time to go in as if rum punch were just across the threshold that separated us. Whatever that was, I want more of it.
I remember waking up and being in a terrible pain that morphine couldn’t even touch and thinking that they tricked me. This was not the Caribbean.
I remember the first Ironman movie being on tv when they wheeled me to my room but apparently I remember nothing about the actual movie itself because I watched it this week to catch up on my Ironmans and had no recollection of Ironman 1 whatsoever, even though I apparently watched it twice that night in between morphine feedings.
I remember my husband being sweet. I don’t remember anything he said or did but I remember he was by my side the entire time.
I remember being the slightest bit bitter that I was not having margaritas on Cinco De Mayo.
I remember a lot of things about this day but the biggest thing I remember is that this was the day they took out The Cansuh.
And even though I am still sad they also had to take my uterus, which was an unsuspected bystander in the whole thing, this day last year, I became cansuh-free.
And I am cansuh-free right now. One whole Cinco De Mayo later.
Which means of course that I will celebrate being cansuh-free on this Cinco De Mayo, with margaritas, of course, and I will think of the girl who so badly wanted one that day and I would toast her.
She came through it all pretty good that day.
I’m pretty proud of her.
She deserves a margarita (or three) after that. You deserve margaritas for having to wear a pee bag when you get home.
I’d love to go tell her that not only would she be ok, but that she’d go do a triathlon 5 months afterward, a half-marathon after that, and by the one year mark she’d be back doing what she loved in a career she loved and getting to go home to her babies to boot!
I’d love to tell her that one year later, she’ll look down at her belly and the scars of that day would be faded. And so would most memories. Not all, but some.
If you’re looking for me today, you can find me with a margarita, toasting my one-year cansuh-free anniversary and toasting to the future and whatever that may hold, with my husband.
I can go on and on about the lessons learned along the way this year (don’t sweat the small stuff, things can change in an instant, how to hide a pee bag in your purse or by strapping it to your leg, a husband who will change your pad for you without flinching is really in it for the long-haul, you know, things like that…) but the truth is, if you’re not learning, you’re not growing, and I know a lot more now about a lot of things and that’s always the bright side.
So here’s my toast to you, because if you’re reading this, then somehow, in some way, at some point, even if it’s just by reading this post, you’ve been here for me and I love you for it (I’m not afraid to say it. I have a lot of love in my heart these days.)
I hope I will some day be able to return the favor.
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