It’s been a real Hershey Park ride these last two weeks, for a recovery in hospital expected to be five nights that turned into twelve. From a partially collapsed lung to a blood clot to excessive swelling in the legs to IVs and heart monitors and CT scans and x-rays and ultrasounds and no food for nine days, an NG tube, and the bulk of walking exercise spent going from chair to bathroom. I’m pretty sure I’ve missed some details and violated HIPAA laws but I haven’t been sued in a couple of years and never by my mother so … why not?

How to decompress? Decided to do some long-overdue weeding of the gardens, starting with the backyard. Five minutes in, something bit me HARD in the ass. IN THE ASS. Running shorts and tank top, plenty of exposed flesh – this fucker stung me through not one, not two, but three layers of fabric. So I run screaming into the house, Todd comes running from the garage – well, actually not running, because he’s used to me hurting myself .

I think it was a horsefly, having been stung by one many years ago and judging by the HOLE this thing left “behind.” The jury is out though, since the tiki torch next to where I was working has a nest of black wasps building the Taj Mahal and Todd says it was one of them. Either way, it swelled to the width of a small melon and – a week later – still itches like a motherfucker.

She’s finally home and now my anxiety has edged down from a 9 to a 7, but for anyone who’s had a parent in hospital return home – you know it’s just a different kind of worry that takes over. I know she will read this but – and DON’T YOU DARE APOLOGIZE – I have never felt more clarity over the state of affairs in my life and of those around me and frankly, it’s sometimes exhausting. I’m sleeping like I can’t get enough sleep.

However, we’re keeping busy with longtime plans and commitments and in some ways those things are exhausting too. But at the end of those days I am so grateful we did them.

We took the ’68 to a local car show last week – neither of us were feeling it but we got in the car and went anyway. It was a small event – only in its second year – but there were some gorgeous cars there and Todd got to chat with other enthusiasts. The weather was perfect for mid-July in the mid-Atlantic.  I saw a man there from PT I’d met months ago and then he showed me pics of his x-rays on his phone and suddenly we were no longer talking about cars and I decided it was time for some empanadas from the food truck. Which were amazeballs.

Next up: the 50^th Anniversary of Maryland EMS on Friday. I left work a half hour early to rush home, feed the dogs, pack for the overnight, grab my dress, jump back in the car, and drive an hour and 40 minutes to Annapolis. Which, thanks to a clusterfuck of traffic on 95, became over two hours and a mad dash into the hotel to throw on my dress and have Todd leave the event room for five minutes to zip me up.

I love my husband who thinks I’m still beautiful all sweaty and disheveled as he introduced me in the parking lot to one of his many associates who, unlike me, was not wearing ripped shorts and a t-shirt with no makeup on. BUT. I did not want to be seen like this and of course I never saw her again after that. I had no down time to collect myself before being whisked away to meet his boss and boss’s wife, and a handful of other people just minutes before the emcee began his opening remarks.

By collecting myself, I mean I need a breath to recover from shit-driving and racing against the clock and if I don’t get an opportunity, I am generally very quiet. Wine helps with that. It was a heavy hors d’oeuvres and dessert event but, for the kid who grew up in food service, I couldn’t help but notice how badly the wait staff butlered them. Especially when one of them came up with a tray of cocktail shrimp and offered it to the three women on my right (picture four women sitting together at a table) and then walked away without offering it to me. Most of my sustenance came from my husband – who was working this event and managed to grab some things from passing trays nearby and brought them to me – and liquid calories.

At the end of the day (or, in this case, night) a group of us retired to the hotel bar where the real fun began. I met some great people who work in EMS and MIEMSS* and ya’ll would be so proud of me, I stopped drinking before I even got there.  There was a drink for me, which I pawned off on Sean – one of a handful of brilliant conversationalists – who, wearing a blue sequined jacket, I picked out from the crowd of 200 earlier for someone I needed to talk to. I finally excused myself to the four people left around 1:45 a.m. to return to the room and when I got there I realized I could not get my dress off by myself.

This led to a FB post for that moment you realize your spouse is still at the bar and you’ll be sleeping in your dress. I texted him, I can’t get my dress off. He arrived about ten minutes later to my ultimate relief because while I love my dress, I haven’t slept in my clothes since 1996 and had no intention of breaking that streak.

It’s been a week of life-affirming revelations, which I will save for another day, but recognizing parts of my constitution and character and having the maturity to speak them to people who don’t know me very well has been The One I’m most proud of today.