Last week I walked into our local hospital and two days later, was wheeled out in one of my new nightgowns, a vase of flowers on my lap while the two volunteer interns pushing my wheelchair commented to each other about the weather, the construction at the hospital, and about another volunteer that was not a favorite. It was the first time I’d been outside since the surgery to rearrange my clockworks and I was thinking about the sunlight, the slight breeze and whether or not my husband would back into the construction truck which had parked so strangely in his path. It was surreal. When I walked in, the possibility of the Big C was dangling over my head and I’m happy to say that the initial reports are that this diagnosis was carried away in the sunny breezes of that hot morning.
Aside from a brief mention of the process in this post, I’ve kept this pretty quiet as I lurched all summer from doctor’s appointment to scan to oncologist to OB-GYN’s office, not trusting the emotion, not knowing where the path would lead.
I had intended to keep it quiet still, as we here in QuiltLand tend to prefer our blog posts to be bursting with sunshine, little blue birds, some snippets of song, and fabric fabric fabric. However, when I realized that the recovery was going to be loooong, I might need to explain my absence.
I’ve recovered enough to now sit at the computer for whole stretches of minutes, but do most of my reading in bed with my tablet. I thought I’d share one or two interesting bits from QuiltLand that I thought you might enjoy. Stephanie Ruyle’s latest blog post, where she shows her magnificent quilt, Ember, is a great description of using up scraps, making them into art (no photos of this one–go over to see it).
We also had our recent Four-in-Art Reveal and while I loved all of the offerings this time, Catherine’s choice of poem, Mrs. Midas, and her resultant art quilt are a magnificent pairing. Maybe it’s because I’m feeling a bit imprisoned by convalescence that I related to what Mrs. Midas was saying. I also liked the speech on quilting, given by a sitting criminal court judge in Canada. He writes amusingly about his wife’s passion of quilting; although long, it’s worth a read.
My minutes are up, so it’s time to go. On the positive side, my husband says I’m more alert now than when I walked in last week, woozy from anesthesia and painkillers. I am hoping for incremental progress every day, knowing that the average recovery for this type of surgery is 6-8 weeks. On the negative side, I’ll cry (more) if I can’t get back to the quilting, but never fear! I’ve been able to pick up the hand sewing, so at least the hexies are coming together bit by bit. I hope that whatever summer fun you are doing, you’ll let me know–I can live vicariously though you all at this time. I may not have the stamina to write back immediately, but I will certainly read everything, and appreciate whatever you share.