My husband’s definition of a clean house is NOT the same as mine. In fact, he has the well documented male eyesight issue that can unsee messes even if he trips over them. He, also, believes in the dishwasher fairy who comes out at night to put the dishes in the dishwasher magically. Why do I mention this? I am about to undergo surgery number twenty-three in two days. My normal clean house is about to undergo a disaster in the making.

This week, I have been prepping to the best of my ability. The toilets are sparkling. The floors are turbo vacuumed. The stove is clean. I would bathe the dogs but Olivia draws the line at that. In all seriousness though, Dwight and I have a routine by now. He knows what is important. He can let the rest go. I, on the other hand, have to sit on my hands to make sure I don’t overdo it after surgery. I am not a good patient.

More importantly, I have been preparing myself mentally as well. I have confidence in my surgeon. I know Mayo has a fantastic surgical team who will give me care afterwards including a diabetic inpatient team who just deals with insulin pump issues. I am sure this is the right decision for me at this time and I have no reservations.

Physically, I have been resting as much as possible. No doctor appointments this week. No choir practice. Just a week of sleeping as much as I need, working on my crafting, and hanging out with Holli – the best preparation I could ask for. I need my body to be as strong and rested as possible for the best recovery. I have had a few months to prepare myself this time.

Last year, I had two weeks between the decision to do major spinal surgery and the surgery itself. I was working full time, just started as a board member of the Myhre Syndrome Foundation, and was in terrible pain. Even before surgery, I couldn’t do anything for myself.

So, I sent my husband clothes shopping for me. I told him I need drawstring sweat pants that were a little large to go over a back brace. Do you remember MC Hammer pants? The balloon legs that were 12 sizes too big? THAT is what he came home with. The BEST sweatpants I have EVER owned. Holli and I can fit into one leg with room to spare. The pockets are huge. They are the worst looking, most comfortable clothing that I own!

Tonight, as I pack to leave for Mayo in the morning for my pre-surgery COVID swab, I am grabbing my MC Hammer pants. I know that Dwight has my back as he has many times before. I know all the important things in the house will be done like laundry and feeding the dogs. The rest can wait.

On a side note, I would love to have some feedback from you on content, thoughts, feelings. Future ideas for topics? I am open to any conversation. Contact me at pschultz@myhresyndrome.org at any time.