I Decided to Show the End and Not Be a Liar For Once

If the resting ballet face is any indication, it was both a good day the day I was here... and not remotely. 

Only my third or fourth barre post-op.

The face is not the kind we are encouraged to share digitally, in a see of Lulus and broad grins (here I twas very sick but twas very determined. Fighting some ghost in some unseen room).

Maybe you can spot the moment when my youngest, Follin, kissed my actual hand because she knew I was doing a stress-barre and finding some strange solace in that. Looking back it was such an incredibly sweet thing to do… Something I wish the world could metaphorically do more for each other.

The improvements in pain are not promising: the nerve rogue and I (you) do not know which way is up or down or around any more. Everything has healed with intention and grace… except the left side.

I’m working so hard on regaining strength and breadth (and breath) despite the worries of so many things going into this past winter - heart and scale and staleness of sentence loops like these - but the things I can control ARE getting better. The things I ingest, the things I can rebuild, the things I can pretend to outthink.