Out of the mouths of babes

This past weekend, I was starting to regain my strength and enjoyed forgetting about myself for awhile. My 6-year-old climbed up on a stool in the kitchen to reach something up high. I grabbed her as she looked unstable. She screamed at me not to lift her off the stool. She said she didn't want me to die. While this was upsetting, I thanked her for reminding me to take better care of myself. She told me she could get off the stool by herself, which she did.

I overdid this weekend. On Monday, I slept until 3. I have committed to resting since my pain and fatigue have resumed, in fact the pain seems to be increasing at this point. Today was the 4-week mark for my TAH/BSO. I worked at my computer this morning, trying to catch up on some work from the office. I did well for awhile, but could feel a strong sense of both physical and emotional resistance. I rested the rest of the day. When my husband, from whom I'm separated, dropped off my daughter from school, he asked me what I had done today that was productive. I told him that I had worked very hard at recovering! As annoyed as I was by his question, I was equally pleased that he thought this was a good answer.

That was really cute. And as far as the hubby thing. You go girl.