Ch- ch- ch- changes... and lists

In order for there to be a "first day of the rest of your life", there also has to be a "last day of life as you previously knew it" -- ever-so-likely with a "day of chaos and feeling lost and confused" somewhere in the middle of those two.

I guess that makes today the last, what with Don's surgery tomorrow.  Actually, we thought it would be, but apparently yesterday was, unawares, the last day of normalcy -- after learning his surgery is scheduled for 6:15am tomorrow (yeah, the hospital has obviously never met us!!!), it turns out that the toast he had for breakfast this morning is the last meal he's allowed.  Only clear liquids for the rest of the day.  So much for the dinner I'd planned...  (they told us before he could eat until 11pm, but... apparently that info sheet was wrong!)

So... yesterday was apparently the last day of life-as-we-knew-it, and we didn't even know it.  Today is waiting and fretting day.  Tomorrow is the chaos day.

Glad that's figured out.

By the way, don't be expecting a blog tomorrow, at least not until evening.  Although I may need something to do with my hands and brain while Don's in surgery... you never know -- wait, that blog was the other day's!

But it seems to be today's too.  And yesterday's.  And tomorrow's.  Because you never know.  Ever.

Don was planning on a nice long walk today.  But now he has to stay close to home, and porcelain, because the pre-op medication is busy working its magic.  I'm trying to figure out whether to move my trio rehearsal to Thursday or just give up entirely, because he may be released Friday morning... or he may not. His body is going to have to decide that one.

Which doesn't work very well in my world of planning and organizing and putting stuff down on calendars and to-do lists, so I can pretend at least temporarily that I have some sort of control over this wild and crazy thing that is my life.

Of course, that wild and crazy thing that is my life has been trying to show me for several months, if not years, that there is no controlling it.  Which, I believe, I tend to equate with being out of control -- which is, in fact, a very different thing altogether, but my subconscious has yet to grasp the subtleties there.

I've got a to-do list a mile long.  The reason why it's so long isn't because I'm out of control, it's because my making of to-do lists is out of control.  :-)

I really need to make a habit out of sitting myself down, getting myself to estimate times for each "to-do", and then slap myself upside the head for expecting myself to get 36 hours worth of work squeezed into a 24-hour day.  Especially on days when Mother Nature has other ideas and Life has a few other surprise lessons in store for me.

Should that truck or those aliens come to be, I'm quite sure nobody is going to mourn the length of my to-do list.  My last thoughts will ever-so-likely not be about my to-do list.  So if it's not important in death, why do I cling to it so in life?

Here I am, on the eve of my husband's surgery, trying to figure out how to squeeze enough workouts in to the week, between visiting hours and errands and updating friends.

Seriously, Alyssa?!?  At this point, I think it's OK to skip a few workouts this week.  You aren't suddenly going to be svelte by Friday if you do them, and you might need to take it a wee bit easy on yourself, too!

Now I'm bargaining -- maybe if I double up on Saturday...?

Dear lord, if I were able to type as fast as my brain can make up arguments with itself, you'd be reading a brilliant, if terribly pathetic, comedy right now.  My fingers cannot travel at the speed of Lyssy, though.  Another thing to kick myself for.  :-)

The thing with to-do lists, other than the joy I get at ticking off the boxes, is that they keep me out of the present.  I'm stuck in the past with things I wanted to do but didn't get done yet.  And I'm stuck in the future with dreams of "one day my to-do list won't be 418 items long" (you think I jest?  nosirreeee!)  And I'm not here in the moment, embracing my imperfection.

I'm forever telling other people they don't need to be perfect, and should just embrace the beauty of their imperfections.  Perhaps it's time to offer the same advice to myself?

At a women's integral retreat led by Don's and now my cousin Becky last year, we learned the 'mantra' "I am infinitely adequate" -- heck we even got the group to write a song about it.  Boy, did I ever fight that mantra.  Adequate?  I'm only adequate?  I'm supposed to be wonderful and perfect and better than anyone would believe a person could be!

Pfui.

Well, you're not.  Suck it up, cupcake.

Provided you aren't slouched in front of the TV eating bon bons all day -- well, at least not every day, but maybe on the days when you need to sit, watch and eat -- whatever you do IS infinitely adequate.  It's the best you can do that day.  Other days, you'll be able to do more -- and if you're anything like me, you'll force yourself to.  Other days, you won't have the time or the energy, and just might need a pyjamas and crappy movies and junk food day to restore your balance.

The to-do list can wait.  Have a great meal with your spouse -- you never know when he'll be back on solid foods.  Screw the to-do list and cuddle in front of the fireplace.  Heck, screw your spouse, because prostate surgery is a bitch and it might be a long while before you get the chance again...  (sorry, Mom!)

What's in your heart and in your soul is so much more important than any crappy to-do list.  Guilt can take a holiday, she's not helpful at the moment.  Although, Lyssy, you are 24 weeks behind on a bubble bath, and a couple of months behind on your weekly "me" hour.  :-)

Yes, even when I put myself on a to-do list, I'm useless at looking after myself.

But at least I made it on to the list!  Baby steps...

I'm getting wise and getting fit
It doesn't have to hurt a bit
My inner light is getting lit
I'm Infinitely Adequate
[She's Infinitely Adequate]
[We're Infinitely Adequate]