Do you see this?
Do you know what that is? It's ice. On the sidewalk in front of my apartment. At 10:00 AM.
I. Am. Grumpy!
Have I mentioned how much I hate to be cold?
Well, I do. I hate it. Always have.
As anyone who knows me well is aware, I have a weak bladder. (Oh, the stories I could tell - yes, plural - about the times I've peed my pants. In public. As a grownup.) I mean, it's pretty bad in the best of circumstances, but I swear... when I'm cold, it's like my peanut-sized bladder shrivels down to nothing.
When I am cold, I tell you, I have to pee. All the time. My whole life. ... Those six winters I lived in Utah were a blast and a half, let me tell you.
Add a whoooooole lot of scar tissue to the aforementioned bladder issue, and January and I are officially friends-off.
Before my first surgery, I had a friend tell me that her scar tissue would act up when it was cold. I'd had hopes that it was just HER scar tissue that was itchy and hurt when it was cold. ... Wishful thoughts, my friends. Pipe dreams. That was a swell fantasy. The reality is, winter is a miserable time for my body. My joints ache and the Tootsie Roll feels like it's gonna poke right through my back.
The one upside of my last surgery is all of the nerve damage. I may have a swath of skin on my left hip about six inches wide that I can't feel - and that numbness may run all the way across the left side of my abdomen over to my pubic bone (I'm guessing that happened when they took my left ureter...) - but I also have an almost complete and total loss of feeling in my belly button area, and at the top of my incision scar, which is an INCREDIBLE blessing, because the tip of that scar has been killing me for the last two winters! (Just call me Pollyanna.)
Viva la nerve damage! (Words that I never - and I do mean NEVER - thought I'd say!)