Three weeks ago today, I entered St. Marks to have Einstein removed. It seems like only yesterday. And, like a lifetime ago at the same time.
Tomorrow, I meet with the doctor to see how my body is healing and to talk about next steps and returning to life. I haven't seen her since the hospital.
It seems unreal that I should be back to work and life and everything in another week. I am trying to rebuild my stamina. Naps are my friend. Sometimes life seems overwhelming.
I am unsure if I am the same person I was even a month ago. Is anesthesia a type of burial and rebirth? Does the person who carried Einstein still exhist?
Life is fragile. How do I want to let this experience change me?
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