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Sheltering-in-Place: Day 62

A woman in a bat-patterned hoodie has her back turned to us as she looks into darkness where red flowers or plants grow. Her skirt is red and flowing and stretches in all directions, becoming part of the foliage. The text on the image reads  Beauty grows even in darkness.  I choose to pull the good out

The text on the image reads

Beauty grows even in darkness.
I choose to pull the good out and keep it.

tldr; The bad, the good, the mediocre, it's up to me which parts I choose to focus on once I'm able to control my focus.

My fancy new drawing monitor screen thing stopped working days ago. I was emailing with a helpful and resourceful tech to figure out if it's solvable on my end. It was determined that it isn't. This means it was harder to do digital work these last several days. It was frustrating, but not impossible. The good news? The tech is looking into a solution on their end to replace my nonfunctional machine. Yay!

My sewing machine broke the other day. I was mid-skirt! I had plans for making masks and finishing some project and and and! No worries, though. I found a retailer/wholesaler with more parts available than I ever dreamed—and I'm getting a shear and knife sharpener to boot! Shipping will take a little longer because, you know, there's a pandemic. But, DUDE! I get to try to repair my sewing machine! 

Brain weasels are still weaseling. It's what they do. I do my best to not feed them. Occasionally, those rabid little needlers accidentally turn over a clump of brain that turns into something gorgeous, like a rhino painting or a part of a terrible memory that was the reason I survived the terrible part. I get to hold on to the art that comes out when the weasels go on parade. I get to hug and hold all the things that kept my head above water, sometimes literally. (Hello Russian River! I'm talking about that inner tubing trip that went awry. When I popped back up, there were people who stopped me from washing away. Hi peeps!)

And there's always chronic pain. One source of chronic pain is something I can name and pummel against: Endometriosis. I had expert excision surgery a couple years ago, roughly. Enough has changed and improved and side stepped and cycled through retreating and improving again that I'm certain Dr. Seidhoff saved my life. I don't think anyone really wants the details. I don't know that I really want to share them here. What that surgeon did for me is not hyperbole. 

So. Today. Today, I maintain my hedgerows after bouncing in my daisies yesterday. Today, I make sure my boundaries are in good shape. Today, I think about the things that helped get me through harder moments than this. It's all about perspective.

And my bat hoodie never hurts.

Oh! and MEMES! LOL. I made memes today.

The text on the meme reads, Putting an endometriosis patient in front of a basic level OB-GYN is like putting someone with a compound leg fracture in front of a physical therapist. There's a drawing of an endo infested uterus too. 

The meme shows a drawing of a flamethrower burning off the top of a flower but leaving the roots behind and a trowel digging up a flower by the roots, with a wide margin. The flower represents endometriosis, like a weed growing where it shouldn't. The flamethrower represents non-excision surgery, AKA ablation. The trowel represents excision surgery. The text clarifies this and also says, Endometriosis, We need more excision specialists.

For more information on endometriosis, check out my super long infographic, the Endo-Graphic, and also one of the best blogs on endo, Bloomin' Uterus.