OK so I’m being dramatic there. But I am nevertheless pleased to report that I went out to a party on Halloween night! It’s my first social-scene participation since the surgery (and one of few in more than a year) and it was welcome. The house that I used to live in in Leuven was having one of their color-themed parties. This one was “pink”. Belgians really dig theme parties. (These is the same house full of friends that have mentioned on here various times for their various heroic favors.)
I find it interesting that so many people still do not get what I had done to me. Many say things like, “Now tell me, why couldn’t you stand up for so long? It was bad on your back for some reason, is that it?” Now I don’t blame them. There are much more pleasant and interesting things for people to keep up with than someone else’s surgery. (Hmm…could that be because it’s creepy? Or boring?) It’s more a comment on the fact that it’s quite hard for people to grasp the extent of the surgery, and how amazing it is. When I respond, “Er, no. It’s because they cut away 4 or 5 inches of my stomach skin and then sewed it together,” (awk-ward! [*sung in a high voice*]) they seem quite perplexed at how they could have missed that. But refreshingly the party was for talking about so many other things as well, as I get to do more and more often now, which is something I will never take for granted again.
Luckily I had two other friends from Brussels going, so we went on the train together. I’m moving quite easily now and catching the bus to the train station did well to remind me I still need to be cautious. One slam of the brakes or punch of the gas and I felt it as I braced to make sure I was not tossed around as well. These friends are also no longer keen on “crashing” anywhere but our own beds (even though the house is super accommodating and comfy) so I was grateful to cab it back to my place for bed.
The only other strain was on the dance floor, when I did so for more than a few minutes at a time. Oh yes. I danced too. Granted, I looked like I was emulating an octogenarian, but technically it was dancing! That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
As a side note, I just realized that I could now throw away the “patient card” I had to carry around in my wallent to inform medical personal that I had a Port-A-Cath in the event of an emergency. Actually, I think I’ll go fish it out of the trash can and put a match to it, just because I can!
And my award for favorite party dress o the evening goes to…
(and his partner who dressed in mirror-image.)