If you had told me prior to this, that in less than a month after major spine surgery, The Monkey would not only be up and about like normal, but also running, jumping, wrestling with her brother, and playing violin on stage at Hilbert Circle Theatre again; I'd have called you a liar in a heartbeat.
I've been absent this blog too long.
But life has this habit of getting in the way of things.
Exhibit A: The Monkey undergoing a Posterior Spinal Fusion at St. Vincent's Payton Manning Children's Hospital this April.
I'm not sure where April went, honestly. It flew by in a blur of hospital waiting rooms and family surgery centers and humming fluorescent room lights and reflective tile flooring and the soft buzz of sympathy and machinery hooked up to my child...
If you haven't hugged a nurse today? Do it. Right now. Those people are the strongest, most caring group of men and women I've ever had the privilege of being with. They are at the same time soft and hard, caring and insistent. They move mountains and wipe tears with the equilibrium of someone who has lived a thousand lifetimes.
And, while I've purposefully left off grand details of The Monkey's particular ordeal, because the memories of that little body post-surgery still brings the sting of tears to the back of my throat, I will say that the capacity the human body has to heal has absolutely stunned me.
By all rights, this kid should still be in bed somewhere, and yet here we are...back in the thick of things again. And, while I white-knuckled every new step she took post-surgery, I've finally come to the point where Sophia's back isn't my first and last waking thought. She's healing. In the way that only that scrappy little monkey can - at warp speed.