Wild Ride

Sezane tank
Zara jeans (similar)
Le Chateau sandals (c/o) (similar)
Ellen James handbag
Mango sunglasses
Linjer rings (c/o) (similar)
Maris Pearl Co. earrings (similar)
Location: The Manitoba Legislature – Winnipeg, Manitoba

What a wild ride the past two weeks have been. I started September feeling nostalgic for the month that might have been. And uncertain about how I would spend the two long weeks of vacation that were originally earmarked for an adventure in Spain. We made the best of the situation that we could. But looking forward at sixteen days of holiday time that I would mostly spend alone in my apartment was, admittedly, fairly dismal.

…and then I got the call.

The week that I spent anticipating my upcoming surgery, which I’d expected to wait months for, was an unusual one. In most ways, life just went on as normal. There was no preparatory work to do, nothing needed from me more than twelve hours in advance – and even then, the only ask was that I stop eating or drinking at midnight the day before the procedure. Somehow, that felt wrong to me. When something feels like a big deal to me, and surgery definitely did, I always expect that it should require advanced preparation.

So I looked for ways to prepare. I tried to think back on how I handled the only other surgery I’ve ever undergone: the extraction of my wisdom teeth. I was in twelfth grade when it was done. And I realised quickly that I remember very little about how I felt, if I felt anything at all, going into that procedure. It was Christmas vacation. I showed up, it was anaesthetised, and I went home again after it was over for a long nap. That about sums up the story. Far from a wild ride, it was a non-event that took up a few days of my holidays but otherwise had virtually no impact on my life.

That left me without much to go on. So I worked on my book, did a bit of online shopping, sat outside in the sun on my balcony with a glass of wine on a couple of nice afternoons… and I waited. Choosing my “last meal” pre-surgery – I went with pizza – was the extent of my prep work.

Time passed, as it always does, no matter how slow it feels. Monday morning came. I realised when it did that I’d failed in my preparations by not considering what clothes to wear to the clinic – my choice of leggings and a pullover sweatshirt, for the record, was the wrong one. Buttons, zippers and looseness are all key, I learned immediately while struggling to stand and put clothes on at the same time after the procedure was over. (Speaking of wild – that was a real experience. Codeine, it turns out, goes straight to my knees.)

Here we are now seven days later. I’ll share a full rundown of my procedure and recovery experience once I’ve lived all the way through it. But looking back on the past two weeks, which wound up being more sick leave than vacation, all I can think is that this whole year has been absolutely wild. When I woke up on January first, I thought I had the next twelve months of my life all mapped out. Since mid-February, that map has been in pieces. From week to week, nothing goes the way I expect that it will. The things I plan for rarely come to fruition. Looking forward becomes increasingly challenging, because it’s impossible to know what might come next.

But – and there is a but – despite the fact that my map for 2020 is in pieces, and despite the fact that sometimes, from day-to-day, I don’t know what might come next, I’ve been enjoying the ride this year. It isn’t what I expected. If asked, I wouldn’t say it’s been what I wanted. It’s been wild at times and, equally, absolutely, achingly dull at other times. Maybe it’s been the year I needed, though. It’s taught me to embrace spontaneity, even chaos, – I’m not sure that my 2019 self would have been able to agree to go for a surgery just a week in advance, no matter how much she wanted it – and take chances when they come up, because they might not come up again. The past two weeks have been the most surprising yet. But I’m grateful for them. I’m grateful for all of it, really.

Shop the Post