oh, very mature!


they asked. i had mentioned that i'd be more available, w/ more office hours, after i get my kidney stint out tomorrow. one student asked exactly what that was. so i drew a diagram and told them about it. the word "barb" raised a few hackles, i could see. but hey, as my dozens and dozens of readers will know, i believe in the value of expression, getting things out there. and, especially when it comes to pain and the body, there's something awful about keeping it in.

in 1994, as i was preparing to have a craniotomy for a life threatening brain tumor, the only thing i saw when i closed my eyes was saw gleaming toward skull and it freaked the f*ck out of me. i could not stay in my head. i had to talk about it, write about it, midnight call about it to anyone who would listen. i had a supercool group of friends back then , and many of them gave good ear (Todd Taylor shaved his head in solidarity . . . i love you, Todd).

i guess it's that slightly somber time before you know you'll be having a procedure; you know that you are the "subject" and that you will give up all control. there's something terribly lonely in it, but it's also sort of luxurious to bathe deeply in that self-pity and fear, something terribly goth about it (heard "How Soon is Now?" on XM last night, the Smiths' theme song that is perfectly suited for this moment i'm trying to describe).

anyhow, i'm tired, excited about a procedure that is also a little scary (remember those "barbs" that have been holding the stint in place? well, they have to come back out . . . and that can't feel good) . . . so i'm rambling out of fear and excitement and because, damn it, it's my webspace.

very mature.

Comments

Billie said…
Sending you good vibes today and tomorrow and the next. What you are experiencing now must be so difficult. Even though "others" haven't been quite so human about it all, keep in mind that the rest of us are here and we wish you well. We care about you.
billie,

you are so kind. this means so much to me. and i love the people i share w/ here. it's silly and amazing, how much mylittleblog means to me (mostly, it's the people, though, the access, the kindness, the sharing . . .).

and no! i'm not on drugs!

maybe later today :)

thank you so much for writing.
John said…
I hope it all goes well. I completely understand about trepidation before surgery. A couple of days before I had arthroscopic surgery on my knee, I completely broke down and my wife couldn't understand it. And that's nothing compared to what you've had done and will be having done tomorrow. The control issue is a lot of it, I think, made worse because while we give consent to have such procedures done, it's not really a choice made of free will in the fullest sense of what that is supposed to mean.
chris said…
mature? crap. we're supposed to be mature on these blog things...

final stages of the countdown...

maybe they didn't get that card yet b/c they're saving up for a bottle of...

be well, b.
you guys are awesome. thanks for caring and writing and sharing (John, hope the knee is fabulously "new").

it wasn't nearly as bad as i thought it'd be, but someday, i'll have to write up the story that begins "When the doctor told me that a resident would be 'standing in,' he neglected to mention that he'd be giving rookie a shot at it . . . "

you can't wait, can you?

i'm fine. a little sore. no biggie.

thanks again. so much. for everything.
John said…
I'm glad it's turned out so well. The knee isn't perfect, but it's much better than it was. I was told we wouldn't know if the surgery really worked for five years (they drilled holes to grow new capillaries to get blood flowing back to part of the knee cap), and that was over six years ago now. Some times I suspect it might not be all fine, but I was also told it would always be a bit wonky from time-to-time, so I'm assuming it's okay.
wow! that sounds like a pretty cool procedure! i mean, after a while and a lot of procedures, you (i) have to just start appreciating what "they" can do, right? i hope it's all well.

and, btw, i still have to explain to hairdressers why my scalp feels bumpy (1994 craniotomy) and have areas of very-near-numbness along the surgical site. i hope your residual feelings are similiarly banal and that things are, after all, just fine :)