Yesterday I pulled my stent out. The surgeon instructed this post-op, though I barely remember her guidance. Blood. Warm bath. Meds. Pain.
The day before, I bled-peed all day. This too, expected. Still, when you witness your body pouring blood through an orifice that should not bleed.
Yesterday I prepped stent-pulling with a strong dose of Tylenol. I don’t ingest pain meds. More accurately, my body doesn’t cope with prescriptions. She—my body—cramps, vomits, shudders. Post-op pain management looks like an endurance test with heating pads, ice packs, and Tylenol. I also believe that pain is a symptom and masking a symptom often brings more complex challenges.
The day before, I joined friends at The Sandbar for live music. The band played 80’s tunes and a third of the crowd dressed the part—Cyndi Lauper-ish, neon jogging suits, hair poofed to sky. I knew the lyrics. I danced in a non-bouncing gentle way and realized that this was my first outing, my first witnessing of clouds outside my backyard. My body warmed with movement. I still peed blood.
(continue reading on my substack blog, Write2Heal)
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Dear Rebecca, I had no idea you were going through such a body struggle. Sending you reiki love. Your words are stunning. Love Tina Larsen (from Corporeal)
On Tue, Sep 8, 2026 at 10:50â¯AM Rebecca Evans
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