I’m grateful, in no particular order,:
A) That I’m alive – in my long-ass life, I’ve survived six mondo, motherfucking surgeries (four brain, two spine, plus a dozen-ish or so eye “procedures”). And yeah, I’m still here.
B) That I’ve got some bodacious, awesome friends and family who, crazily enough, love me despite all my florescent oddness.
C) That I met Ten!
D) For my beloved tiny, painted cottage on the bay. Recovery’s softened by art and natural, goddamned beauty. I’m thinking of doing another tree mural in The Amazing Bob’s old study/ now the guest room. It’ll be a cherry tree with boughs full of fruit. Why? I planted a Black Tartarian Cherry for TAB – his ashes are amongst the roots feeding the tree, which will then feed his beloved birdies. What he did in life, he can do in death.
AND
E) Did I mention? I’m alive!
Moving right along to TMI Town:A) In hospital, I didn’t simply puke, I vomited up serious, monsoon levels of technicolor yawn-age. Thankfully, there’s been none of that since getting home.
B) In hospital, everything hurt (‘cept on the day they morphined the shit outta me (and no, I’m not talking Mark Sandman's brill Cure for Pain song). Home now and still, at times, everything still hurts. No fairs!C) Comment from my physical therapist in our, less than 24 hours post-surgery, walker employing stroll:
“generally looks like you’re doing really well considering how far out from surgery you are.”
Well, YEA me!
Meanwhile, eight days later, Jen and I took a walker-free amble down to the seawall, (just down the driveway and across the damn street – baby steps). I did OK but oof, EXHAUSTING. This recovery shit was way fucking easier in my early 40s just FYI and DUH!
Possibly this is what led to yesterday's FOUR hour nap! It was one of those where you wake up, utterly discombobulated, wondering if it’s AM or PM. Naturally later, at bedtime, I didn't fall into Morpheus' lovely arms – NOT even for a second. Recovery’s a bitch!
D) All these damn painkillers ARE necessary. Ya see, it’s them or whiskey. The pills have significantly fewer calories. Dig? But these lovely little anodynes are....emmm.....binding to say the very damn least. Yesterday, after my ninth poopless day in a row, I had my first movement (and, in case you're wondering, it damn sure wasn’t anything like the first movement of Beethoven’s 5th symphony in C minor). I am SO goddamned thrilled to, eh, break the ice on this. I’m thinking of making this occasion a national holiday and shit (snicker, snicker, snicker). I have that kind of power, right? RIGHT!?
As for the Thanksgiving myth, there’s a great interview with the Mashpee Wampanoag Tribe’s, Tribal Historic Preservation Officer, Ramona Peters, in Indian Country Today. Go read the whole thing.
She tells what actually happened way back then and where Thanksgiving really comes from. Teach your children the realty versus the fairy tale.
The final question to her:
Q: Do you regard Thanksgiving as a positive thing?
A: As a concept, a heartfelt Thanksgiving is very important to me as a person. It’s important that we give thanks. For me, it’s a state of being.Yeah, sister, tell it!
Yeah, I'm thankful for still being here after my own hospital adventures. Yeah, I think Thanksgiving, as a holiday, is a positive. Especially when you compare it to the craziness of Christmas, Valentines Day, and Halloween when the objective is just to sell junk.
ReplyDeleteSI! You and I have had a rough year but WE'RE STILL HERE and our brain's are still zooming along at Mach four! Yea us!
DeleteMehdi Ghadiyanloo, who painted the spaces of hope muralin in Dewey Square, said “Art is a painkiller.”
ReplyDeleteCongrats on your BM!
I TOTALLY agree AND when I'm up to it, I gotta visit Dewey Sq.
DeleteAlso too, Thenkyew! 😊