Today marks a week since I’ve been home and it’s been a wonky as hell week.

My body finally feels clean though. No meds pumping through my system giving me one side effect after another and clouding me on so many different levels. Two months is the longest I’ve ever been on anything and my body just doesn’t like anything of that sort. My heart has calmed down. Drowsiness throughout the day gone. Digestion issues resolved. Brain fog dissipated. Sleep apnea still working to not be a predator, which was shown last night with a much needed continue flow of breaths throughout the night. They all fed my anxiety, which is always present to some degree but is more manageable now with a clearer mind and a more still internal response to things. Now I feel like I can heal…find comfort more easily…and I’m so here for it.

My greatest source of comfort right after surgery was a comfy bed with an insane amount of pillows to hold and support me in their own nurturing way. My need to recreate that out of a hotel setting was so high that when I got home I resorted to ordering a new down comforter, an overfilled mattress topper, new soft sheets, and king sized down pillows. Today the last of that order comes in for me to create a palatial getaway of a bed. My entire bedroom will be transformed into a disconnection point for me to let go and breathe in the comfort that I now know to be extremely vital to my well-being. I’ll need help in completing the task from some muscles since I can’t use my own quite yet, but that’s alright. I’ve learned to ask for help lately and it’s been given without me even needing to ask, which has been a nice change of pace.

I’ve still got two weeks of resting to endure, but I’m going to soak them in despite my mind having the reputation of becoming restless as it becomes clearer and eager to resort to living a normal life again. And it seems a normal life may in fact be in my future. The pathology results came back to conclude that the melanoma was contained and successfully removed with surgery. I’m celebrating but not too much until I get the official word from my doctor. He did say that there could be a transport of the cancer microscopically, so I’m reserved in my celebration but that didn’t stop the ugly happy tears and tight hugs shared with my guys. We haven’t told anyone until we find out for sure, but I feel differently now. Cleaner. Annoyingly hopeful for a future I couldn’t see unfolding a week ago. But also cautious because of the trauma I’ve experienced for the past couple of years when doctors would look at me like I only had moments to live. That changes you and your ability trust the validity and integrity of the moment you’re in. …I’ll never be the same again because of the countless mental battles I’ve had to experience in this chapter, as well as the physical ones as my body tried with all of its might to just keep going despite having so much trying to stop it in its tracks. But ultimately I’m thankful that I’ll be able to see the goodness that’ll come from that transformation out of the depths of hell that I was held prisoner of for far too long. It’s time to follow the light out and keep my head up towards it. I’ve so earned it.