blessings this Friday

Ohhhhhh, how hard it is to blog now that the kiddos are back and life is full-speed back into normal!

So, I'm going to make the goal of just posting little tidbits--not make myself try to write full-fledged posts that will take days to write in snatches here and there, if they get written at all!  And what better tidbits to write about than blessings!

#1
This first one is something that is a little deal, but a big deal too.  In my "end of the world as we know it take 1" post last year I confessed that I had been worried for years about various lumps and spots all over me and DH, but seemed to always forget, or procrastinate, or flat-out avoid to call a dermatologist to get checked out.   I did not think about it most of the time, but whenever I would touch or see certain parts of me or DH, I would get a cold wash of fear down my body--worried that since both he and I are at higher than normal risk for skin cancer that we were like ostriches sticking our heads in the sand.  Part of why I had been worried was because the last time DH and I saw a dermatologist, he wanted to cut out about 8 things off of me, and more off of DH, but without giving us reasons for understanding his rationale for doing so, what he was or was not concerned about, etc.  I mean, I can appreciate an ultra-conservative approach to such things and how some doctors would want to be safe and remove anything that was the least bit worrisome; but that doctor had not seemed concerned, more overly casual, cavalier even.  His plan of (literal!) attack did not sit right with me or DH, and so we never followed up to make an appointment for removals.  But then, those lumps and bumps and spots were all still there, and some changing, and more coming. . . my fears were understandable.  My reticence to make an appointment to get checked out by a different Dr. was not.

Well, I not only finally made the call, but I went to the appointment this morning.  What a difference!  The doctor was a youngish man, like the last one, but in practice was so opposite!  He listened to my brief explaination of the prior visit and what I was there to learn today, he looked me over carefully but not obsessively, he was confident in describing to me what he saw with his professional eyes, and he did not find one single place on my body he was concerned about.  I could not believe it.  He named the different spots as various benign things that come with pregnancy and age, and said we would keep an eye on them.  He also confessed that some of his colleagues in the field have been known to be a little "cut-happy," since there is financial incentive for being "proactive" (i.e. there's more money to be found in cutting than consulting).  So, I'm fine.  And I did not even realize how worried I had been until I felt that incredulous joy come over me as I left the office.  Whoo-hoo!  I'll be making an appointment for DH soon!

#2
I got up early this morning to shower and of course had to shave my legs while in there, and then rubbed a little coconut oil over my skin so it had a healthy glow, and selected to wear a modest but nicely matching and fairly new black bra and panty set--nothing motivates such feminine rituals like knowing a strange man is going to be checking you out intimately!  And so when I was in the room with the doctor, sitting there in that faded blue cloth gown, and then pulling it away from various appendages so he could inspect my skin, I was feeling pretty confident.  Even when I had to show him a potentially troubling spot on my bikini line and was sitting there drawing attention to my 4-baby silver-stretchmarked belly. . . I felt oddly really good about myself.  And when he asked to see the backs of my legs and I just stood up without the drape, in my full 40-year-old glory, and he said behind me, "Looking good!" and was of course talking about the lack of potentially dangerous spots on my legs, I smiled in my head, thinking, "And feeling good!"  (Even wearing the coverage equivalent of a bikini I was essentially bared--because even a bikini at the beach is waaaaaaaaaay too much bare skin, too much exposure, not only showing skin but suggesting you think you are attractive in it, which is more emotionally naked than I care to go.)  I have shared with you all before about my insecurities about my aging postpartum body (if any of my lady readers with similar struggles were not here for this post, please feel free to read and know you are not alone).  So it was such a strange, unexpected little bit of liberation this morning to be literally exposed in such a cold, unflattering environment, and in such an emotionally and psychologically vulnerable state--and be completely at ease.  To not only not be embarassed by any of my physical imperfections under such scrutiny, but to even feel good.  I don't mean I felt attractive or beautiful--good gracious!--but just to feel so fine with my own skin was meaningful to me.

Those are the first two!  Hopefully there will be a chance to post more blessings tomorrow!

(This is one of those times when I just don't have time to proofread well before I post--please overlook the errors, and know I value my movie-download-date with my husband more than my own author's ego. ; )

Blessing to all of you tomorrow!