Help Jodi through surgery and recovery

I eat right, exercise, don't drink or do drugs, and am as straight as they come. But guess what? Even though I'm a vegan who runs 30+ miles a week (braggart), a teetotaler, who barely takes Tylenol for a headache, somehow breast cancer managed to find me. It was detected after several imaging studies in December and this month. I will have a unilateral mastectomy (right side) and reconstruction.

Surgery is on Friday, February 11. (I'm not into numerology, but I like the relationship of the numbers in 2/11/22!) I am very comfortable with my doctors and know I literally will be in the best of hands with them. That they're Jewish is a delightful bonus.

My wonderful, hilarious, and adorable brother will be staying with me starting a few days before the surgery, during, and afterward, as long as I want and need him, and I literally trust him with my life.

(Yes, I used "literally" in two sentences, back to back. I know. But both are valid and warranted.)

I have been self-employed and have worked from home for 16 years (yes, I was way ahead of the COVID curve) and will work as much as I can while recovering. Still, as much as I like to think I'm an even more wondrous woman than Lynda Carter (sorry, Gal Gadot, but come on), the reality is that I will probably not be able to sit at my desk as long as I ordinarily do to get my work done. Although I have health insurance, I don't have sick/vacation days or paid time off, so I've missed a bit of income running (well, walking fast) to and from appointments and consultations and the downtime resting from having my poor little body part undergo so much trauma. I work seven days a week now and have no problem with that, but I'm sure that will be several skoshes too much during recovery.

I hate asking for help, even with the smallest of things. However, I've been told that under stressful/trying/demanding circumstances like I'm facing now, it's okay to ask for help and even accept it. So here I am, asking, and if you're so inclined to help, I'd be forever grateful. I'll approach my recovery with the same rigor and focus that I do with work and everything else I set my mind to. And in return for your generosity, I promise to continue to try to make you laugh like an absolute flim-flammin' idiot when you need it most. Or even if you don't.