I had to shower every
day, brush my teeth every day,
fix my hair every day, apply make-up every day, get dressed every day, contend with traffic every day, and walk .2 mile down an
incline into a reverberatingly noisy tunnel and then back up out of it every day before I finally arrived at my
courtroom. Exhausting.
I had lived my life at home in a more relaxed, shall we say, manner. And before that, during the
first six weeks post-surgery, my poor injured mind couldn’t even conceptualize
teeth brushing (see, Bumpy Postoperative Course: Mental).
I was warmly welcomed back which I very much
appreciated. It was wonderful to again
see my judicial colleagues as well as the prosecutors and defense attorneys who
regularly appear in my court.
Still, I found myself longing for the pace and beauty of my
life at home. It took nearly two months
before I felt fully engaged again at work.
I discovered painfully that my vulnerabilities from all
that I went through (see, Surgery and Bumpy Postoperative Course[s])
left me more sensitive and reactive than before. At times this made for tough going in felony
court. I noticed, for example, that when
a witness lied, I actually felt it in a physical way. I pondered this awareness in order to find
ways to regain dispassion.
Despite the struggles and adjustments, I feel happy and have
zest for living.
I fought for that zest while I was ill and wrestled it
from the jaws of death.
I have it when my husband looks yearningly at me despite
my altered physical appearance. I have
it as I delightedly explore the craft of writing. I have it when I awake in the morning, and I
have it when I retire at night.
This is my last post on this blog. Thirty seems like a good number to end
with. People from more than 75 countries have viewed this blog. Thanks for reading and for being with me on this
journey.
©
Jean DiMotto, 2012 Website: www.jeandimotto.com
