Wednesday, September 18, 2013

100 Is Not a Lonely Number



When I started this blog back in January, I figured I’d be lucky enough to write five posts about kidney disease and my life before the blog faded into the black hole known as “blogs that people start and never continue.”  But as the title of this post indicates, this is my 100th post on this blog.  100.  Who could have known that I’d have enough material in my over-analyzing brain to fill up 100 spots on the internet?  It seems kind of inappropriate that the internet continues to allow me to write down my random, sometimes incoherent, complex, simple, funny or unfunny (despite how funny I try to be), long or short thoughts on life, love and living against all odds.

I thought about what I wanted to say in my 100th post, because you can never get it back. I didn’t want to waste it on some picture of me watching football in a restaurant surrounded by rib bones.  Or me maneuvering an oversized cart through the aisles of Costco searching for trash bags and rinse aid.  Or a picture of me and my sisters picking apart pieces of chicken for dinner on Saturday while talking about boys and friends and my younger sister’s driving.  Because that’s kind of what I did this weekend.  I didn’t want that to be the 100th post.   

I kept dwelling on the number 100.  It’s not a particularly special number or anything, but it’s a far cry from 001.  I wondered how many 100s can I think of that relate to my life right now. 

100 days:  After I started this blog I had a tube curling through my stomach and was two weeks shy of starting dialysis.

More than 100:  180 of our closest friends and family members were able to witness our marriage after 8 years of dating.

100 Dollars:  The value in gift cards I received from my wonderful coworkers when I received my kidney.

Less than 100: 90 days after my transplant, I saw the Grand Canyon with my husband.

Less than 100: The days that Ben and I have been married (95 today).

Way more than 100: The number of views that Ben was received on his blog about waiting for me in the hospital while I was having surgery.

123:  The number of days that I felt sick this year.

141:  The number of days that I felt sick this year.

141:  The number of days that I've spent running my hand over my stomach.  

141:  The number of days that I’ve been thanking God for this scar on my right side. 

100: The number of posts about pain, joy, recovery, love and life on this blog. 

As you can see, my life is not moving at the pace of my blogging schedule.   And I didn’t want to fib and say something stupid like “I’ve been Bambi 100 times” or “I’ve eaten ice cream 100 times.”  Although…one of those statements might be true.  HMM

I’ve learned so much from the past 100 posts. I know it’s weird saying that because I am writing but it’s true.  But I feel like I’m just now beginning to discover why I’ve loved writing since I was six years old.  Since I definitely crushed my five-posts goal that I set for myself at the beginning of the year, I’m definitely ready for another 100.  Not ready to do more proofreading.  I kind of hate it.