I had a cyst extracted from yesterday and shipped off to pathology. I’m now sporting 4 sutures and it’s all bandaged up for the next 10 days, but my children saw me change the dressing and told me I look just like Frankenstein. Adding insult to injury, my dermatologist zapped a whole bunch of iffy spots on my body with his Mr Freeze gun that looks and feels like a portable blow torch. I popped in my noise canceling air pods, turned up my “mega chiller” playlist, closed my eyes, and disassociated for 30 minutes. Worked like a charm. I treated myself to the first peppermint swig cookie of the season (not) on my way home.
I feel crummy today, but ibuprofen, a lunch with Ryan, and Christmas decorations are coming in clutch. As is this 70* weather, even though it’s not very compatible with the turtleneck I put on to cover the big bandage.
I have laundered every blanket and bed linen in my entire home over the past two days. I decided what I really want to comfort my stitched Franken-neck are flannel sheets. I love sleeping on flannel sheets more than pretty much anything in the world.
So I pulled the little downhill skier sheets from storage, washed them, and flanneled up my bed today. And then I went downstairs and put a Christmas wallflower in Corbin‘s room and swapped his bedding out for flannel sheets and a flannel Christmas comforter. As I tucked sheets and fluffed pillows and stuffed the duvet, I thought about how we really have no idea where Corbin will be living at this same time next year. An unknown of that magnitude must really rattle up Corbin’s brain. It brought me immense joy to make a Christmas bed for him and provide a stable corner of flannel security for him to crawl into at the end of the day. I also thought about all the cuts and stitches and bloody wounds I’ve dressed over the years. So much can be healed with cookies and a cozy bed.
Might get real wild and put a wreath above the headboard, too. Be excited, ya never know what FrankenMeg’s next move is.
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