As I begin to reflect on the process of getting a new aortic valve and root, one thing I see clearly is how my orientation to time has shifted. Prior to this, I would say my focus on time was pretty evenly split between the past, present, and future, with my intention to be more present centered. But that changed in October when I agreed with my team to do the surgery. My focus moved to the future, as I planned for everything that would come after the surgery. I prepared and froze meals for the first six weeks following my hospital discharge to make life easier for my wife. I bought a couple pairs of super soft, comfy pajamas. I ordered books I wanted to read during my recovery. And I got together a small bag of art supplies for my bedside in case I felt a stirring to get creative. I purchased and wrapped all the Christmas gifts. I watercolor painted my Christmas cards and addressed and stamped the envelopes. I left for the hospital having taken care of every future detail I could and assuming my focus would shift back to the present.

Even in the hospital, milestones in my post-op recovery kept me looking forward. When I would be discharged from the ICU, when this tube or that tube would be removed, and predictions about when my pain level would improve. It kept me with my eye on the prize. Not today. But tomorrow or the next day… Coming home did not change things much. Instructions about how long I was restricted from certain movements from the physical therapist or predictions about when pain would subside from the home health nurse reinforced my natural inclination to be future focused. Whether it came from health care providers or myself, there was always a carrot in front of my nose.

For someone who has prided herself on being mindful and present, this shift to the future focus felt unhealthy and like I had lost a piece of myself. Now that I can lift my arms over my head and dress myself, I reflect on that future focus and see it differently. I see what it brought me. Hope. It reinforced the belief that while this was a difficult experience, it would not last forever. There would be days where I could pull up my own pants and tie my own shoes. There would be more nights of sleeping in the bed rather than the recliner. There would be days and nights where there would be times of comfort more often than pain. I needed to believe my body would heal as a component to my body actually healing. And it has. I have travelled an incredibly long distance in my recovery and I am so deeply grateful for that.

I am not done with milestones for a minimum of twelve more weeks. I still have some hoops to jump through. But I notice that as my body is healing, the need to be future focused is gently shifting back to all three time orientations. I find I need a carrot in front of my nose less and I can just be me. What have I learned? That sometimes internal shifts are necessary in a season of life and being gentle with myself about that will serve me well. I’ve learned that I can trust myself to respond to what I need. And that while this process can be extremely messy, it brings true beauty to the mess.

Be well, my dear readers.