I took my first bath in over a month last night.
Lest you get too horrified, let me explain. After surgery I was told to shower, not bathe, for an extended period of time. Most medical personnel suggested six weeks, but I believe they were only being careful.
The point was the incisions had to heal before I could soak myself.
Showers are fine. In fact, I quite like them. But I'd gotten used to bathing before bed. It was relaxing, it put me in the mindset for sleep, and best of all it kept me warm.
Showers did none of that,
My feet stayed cold. In fact, despite the hot weather I often pulled on a pair of thick socks at night. I took them off after a few hours, but the mere fact I had to wear them when it was 80F in the house was disturbing.
A few nights I had to wear winter weight pyjamas.
But that all changed last night.
All four incisions were long since healed and well on their way to making some magnificent scarring.
That's not sarcasm, my scars are my life map. They remind me where I've been, what I've done, and that I am here to tell the tale.
I wear them with pride.
Yesterday marked a lunar cycle and a day since my cancer surgery. I decided bathing was safe so I drew a deep, hot bath last night and soaked a while.
It was relaxing. The weather was cool enough yesterday that it was 68F in the house. I had to have the heat on. The bath kept me warm and despite the cool house I didn't need to wear socks to bed.
In short, I had a bath last night and it was fabulous.
The Soft Laughter of April
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