My Pre-Surgery Shower: The Melvin Party!

I don't know how to rate the success of a pre-surgery shower, necessarily, but I am happy to say that I feel it was a success.  For those of you that were unable to make it, I've got some pictures down at the bottom.

I'm still ridiculously proud of this game I made.

The party met a few needs for me, all in one step.  Immediately, there were words of encouragement and the prayers and well-wishes of many.  It is still difficult for me to ask for help sometimes, especially where I need emotional support--the party itself was a public ask for help in a way that safe/easier and even fun.  I also had many opportunities to address questions about taking care of an ostomy, what the surgery was for, how we ended up at this point, what that was going to mean for my life after, and others, which meets a need to be understood, allowing a welcoming space for those questions people might be afraid to voice otherwise and that I might feel I need an invitation to launch into.  I also had to sit down and really think about what kind of help we were going to need, from the practical things like cooking a meal to less obvious things like help around the house and entertainment.  

Additionally, I felt that I was also helping my help.  I cannot say how many times I've heard the well-meaning invitation "We should hang out sometime."  Sometimes, it's a cop-out, but the majority of the time it is an earnest offer.  However, it sits out there, waiting for one party or the other to take the initiative, meaning that ultimately there is little hanging out that actually happens.  I was worried that "Just let us know if there is anything that we can do to help" would follow the same trend, where both sides were waiting for the other to move until opportunity had passed.  When helping friends move, I've noticed that there are some people that will start grabbing boxes and moving them on to the truck straight away, that are the kind of self-starters that can identify a problem and potentially how to fix it, and then there are others who wait by the door, chatting in the meanwhile, until there is some clear direction or task.  Neither one of these is inherently wrong, but my point is that some people are more intuitive in finding ways to help and others wait for a specific invitation, and I recognize that.  By providing sign-up sheets, I have made the soft ask and have people that I can call directly for certain activities, helping parties that are uncertain of how to help find a means to help and giving me a better idea of how to reach out to different persons, particularly that they have given me permission.  This also helps focus people into different ways that they can help who weren't able to make it but could see what kinds of sign-ups there are.  The self-starters will still find their own way to help in ways I hadn't thought to ask for, but between the ideas put out there and the thought that I had to put into for my own planning, we're much more focused to the help we'll need and grateful for those who are willing to give it.

As promised, here are some of those pictures from the party itself.  Thank you to all of those who came, those who wanted to be there, and those who have offered to help in other ways.  

Education corner!

Sign-up central

It made me ridiculously happy to see a bunch of people coloring pages of intestines and bacteria. 

LOVE my Biology Coloring books.

Had a couple of people try the Photo "Op" area. 

And, yes, we figured Andy's beard needed a hat, too.

Okay, this last one has a bit of a story to it.  I was on some level of painkillers.  I turned to the other folks in the room and it was important to me in that moment to describe EXACTLY how I was feeling:  "I feel like a sheet cake," I announced.  This was met with some confusion.  I then when on to explain that I felt vast but not deep, dense but not too thick.  I could even specify that I was a vanilla sheet cake.  Now it has become a joke with my family, where they check in to see if the medication has kicked in.  They ask, "Sheet cake?"  I give them a glassy stare:  "Eeeeeeeyup."