I do. Feel good. As he was driving us home from the doctor this morning, Eric looked over at me and said You feel better. And when I stopped to think about it, he was right. He usually is (don't tell him I said that!) It is one more thing, on a long list of things, that I love about him. He knows me. He knows when I am beyond handling the moment, and when I have returned to myself... and he somehow adjusts his behavior accordingly. In the aftermath of this week, I have certainly been beyond what I could handle on my own... and perhaps a little cry-babyish about it along the way. I swam in fear and worried about the pain... and I confessed those sins over and over again to God... along with apologizing for asking Him twice (or more!) when I knew He heard me the first time. And as always, I am thankful for His beautiful and bountiful grace that allows me to be the mess I am and learn from it.
And so the verdict is that I am healthy again. A short, but painful, quick fix and I am better... until the next time. But maybe I won't procrastinate as long next time. My little stretching of the urethra is practically nothing compared to so many other things that could have been wrong, or that others are going through right this very minute... but when it is you, or a friend, or a family member, even a molehill appears mountainous from the bedside. And so... with my throat feeling better from the breathing tube, and the catheter no longer strapped to my leg, I am off to live my life, and maybe clean my house... which is as covered by muck & mire as my heart has occasionally been this week.