Just Breathe

I apologize in advance for any typo's, I'm hopped up on pain pills and not exactly at peak performance today but it's the first time I've felt even remotely human since Tuesday morning. The surgery is over. The worst thing about the actual procedue was the wire localization thing where they insert a little metal wire into your boob into the mass they are removing, that sucked! Theyninsert numbing medicine that burns when it goes in but didn't give me enough so when they started with the needle for the wire I could still feel it. Oh, andnall this is going on while your boob is clamped into the mammogram machine, I cried the whole way thru it. I hope I never have to go thru that again. Either I blocked out the memory of post surgery pain or it was worse this time. I've never had pain so bad it woke me up from a drug induced sleep before. DH works nights so when I woke up I didn't have anyone here to talk me down, it was pretty brutal and all I kept thinking was just breathe, it will pass. It's been twomdays now and I'm still notnwhat I'd describe as comfortable but I can atleast sneeze without crying so that's progress.
On the baby front things are looking up. Our donor will be available again starting next week. My periodmis two or three weeks out, long enough to get the pain meds out of my system, so it looks like we're gonna try again next cycle. It seems like it's been forever so we're both excited.
Sorry this is short but I'm gonna take a nap.

Gettin' Ready

Surgery is schedule for Tuesday.  I feel like I'm stuck in a very unfunny version of Groundhog Day but I've come to terms with it.  I'm tired of crying about it, it's not gonna change anything so instead I'm putting my anger to good use.  I've been using my elliptical machine at least 4 times a week for a month now.  At first I could barely make it 5 minutes but now I'm on there for at least a mile, sometimes much more if I don't crank the resistance up too much.
It feels good to sweat out my frustrations about the surgery, about all of our fertility problems, about my fears for my dad's health, about how my heart aches when I think about the social issues my sweet nephew may face if he doesn't grow out of his tourette's.  I get mad and it pushes me further than my legs think they can take me.  By the time I'm done I've surrendered my anger and hurt and all that's left is accomplishment.  I drag my sweaty self into the shower feeling like my problems are somehow smaller because I'm stronger.  It's as if my body is ready to get in a boxing ring with the my surgeon/infertility/MS/tourette's & take any and all of them down.