At any given day people are dying, being birthed, fighting illness, irritated their coffee was made the wrong way, finding a great sale, winning something, heart-broken, addicted, or doing the same daily grind they did the day before just with new pants on. Everyone’s journey running down different paths daily, but leading to the same road. All life leads to an end. All life was made for a purpose.
I am not a huge fan of the line “all things happen for a reason”, because sometimes they are not done for a reason but from a choice. I do believe most things happen for a reason, but having the ability of choice sort of takes away the validity of that blanket statement. Sometimes you choose a crap day over your coffee being made wrong, or you choose a great one by choosing to go outside and in the sun. Either way things happen in a domino affect all because of the energy you decided to bring to the table today.
Luckily nobody was near me yesterday because I chose to sit in my sorrow. Alone, I sulked thinking about how I can not eat, talk, swallow, or breathe correctly. I had surgery the other day (tonsils out), and I was feeling heavily hit with the poor me syndrome. This is ok. I am human. For so reason my expectations of myself in my recovery path exceeded my ability to physically do it. My frustration was more about me not being in control, and less about pain.
Today I woke up with more hope. I can talk a little muppet like, and eat a few things, but I am still lacking taste buds, the ability to enjoy food (everything tastes horrible to me), and swallowing is still an art of conscious thinking for me, not inherent. Sure the 5 lb. weight loss in the 3 days helped drown out the “poor Aimee can’t eat”, but when you love food like I do, it is like watching someone you love walk out of your life temporarily. As I tried sipping a frappachino from my prized franchise that I am devoted to and adore, I wanted to rally for the love to please walk back in my life soon (frappachino into trash).
Life goes on. I didn’t know it could without food. I started to think about all the other things I fill my life up with. Objects, things, places, that I assume I could not live a moment without. The truth of the matter is I CAN! because a. I can choose to , and b. somethings happen for a reason (in this case I lost my taste buds and the ability to use my tongue correctly in order to get rid of a nasty golf-call sized tonsil that could’ve been cancerous).
I am not sure if you can understand how big this revelation is for me. If you know me, you know my love for food runs deep. After experiencing this for a few days I have realized my love of food is not what feeds my soul, or makes me who I am, and it is a mere smidge of what I am (in particular my size pants). I suddenly realized, like anything, I can overcome it.
I am still not psyched about the discomfort I have had the past few days, or the inability to use my mouth the way I would like. Really–(I would have rather had a c-section)–you have no idea what it is like to lose you ability to use your mouth, but, as there always is, there was a greater lesson for a better me.
I am tonsil free. I am also free of the emotional hold I had on food. Food: I still love you, I am sure I will show it when you walk through that door again, but this time I will choose you, instead of making the vital mistake of assuming you are a life line.
See that… a tonsillectomy has made me a better me; for a reason, and for further choices I will freely, and open heartedly make about my own life.
seekingup
Seeking Up 
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