I'm not superwoman.

Holy goodness - let me just say I do not recommend sitting in a car for over 6 hours and trying to make it through a 12 hour day less then 3 weeks out of this surgery. We had a family funeral on Friday, about 160 miles away from where I live. Luckily I was able to ride with my cousin, because physically I could not have driven that far. But just the sensation of clothes on skin, being jostled for 12 hours, caused a huge nerve pain flare-up that took me all weekend to  recover from. I'm so glad I was able to go and see family I hadn't seen in years, and have them see me and see I was alive and kicking, but goodness, did I pay for it.

I've had many people, after hearing the story or asking how I am, say wow, you're a superwoman. No, I'm not. I'm just trying to slog through this like anyone else would if they were faced with it. I'm just counting the weeks down, trying to see the light at the end. I am relying on the help of family and friends and strangers too much to be a superwoman. I do it because I have to, because that's what you do in life, you go forward, you get through. Did I seem to get a heaping spoonful of crap all at once? Sure. Am I tired all the time because I have an infant and a 2.5 year old? Yes, for certain. Am I in pain? Affirmative. Do I most probably have a harder time of this then say a retired grandmother who gets to recover while watching "The Price is Right" (please do not take offense retired grandmothers)? Yes, I do. But a single mother fighting cancer who works and has no health insurance and has to provide for her kids has it harder than me, she's a superwoman to me. I guess it's all what side of the fence you are on, but I, like everyone else, am just trying to make it through, because there's no other option. Well, I guess there is another option, just not a fathomable one. I'm not a superwoman, I'm just a woman, putting one foot in front of the other everyday - sometimes just closing my eyes and hoping today falls into next week then rolls into next month and praying next year appears before me in a better light.