Aftermath

spacer mold

Today is Thursday, January 10, and the time is 9:45 PM. I’m starting this entry in this matter-of-fact fashion just to prove to myself that is really is the time and day, and that I really am alive and writing this. The ‘alive’ part is crucial here…I did have some negative visions during the prep part of this last surgery: I always meditate and try to imagine a Life Force sweeping down in a dynamic electric blue cloud pulsing with energy. It’s a cosmic vision on that is a familiar one to me–I’ve cultivated it regularly for 35 years, and just the whisper of my mantra brings it on my vision screen.

These last few days have been quite different, however…more like a grey, soggy sponge that frames a gloomy seascape of the Breton coastline..no blue, only dark and drippy.

Now I believe that you are what your mind’s eye sees and reports to you, and THAT vision scared me! But I came out of the anesthesia smiling, and with a surging coastline of delphiniums, among which I was dancing! No shit!

It’s pretty difficult to dance when you have a cement ‘spacer’ filled with antibiotics in your hip. That’s the gift that Quick Draw left me…no hip joint, but a nifty little spacing device that will leave room for the new hip when — in 6 or 7 weeks — I will return to an Operating Room and we will begin the process all over again.

That’s more information than you probably wanted to know about Total Hip Replacement. But that’s what’s happening to me right now…an anomaly, right? (“Hey, Lady, I ain’t never seen one of these before!” “I’ve been replacing bifold doors for 35 years and I NEVER has this happen!” “It’s really rare that anyone would be quite as immobile as that after hip surgery.”

I came out of the surgery smiling, and I can still say that it only hurts when I move. There’s not much more to tell you at this point…because there’s not much more that I know. I am smiling, delighting in the taste of ginger ale, and taking orders for the subject of the Great American novel I am going to have plenty of time to write.

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5 thoughts on “Aftermath

  1. May the blue cloud of life force hold you gently and tenderly during this next 6 or 7 weeks. May your muse visit you frequently and keep your mind dancing along a coastline of delphiniums. May your dreams float you off to Eleuthera as you drift asleep. In other words, hang tough sistuh. I think you already have your topic for your Great American novel. You could fictionalize a character and give it a name……..Hmmmm…..let me think. I know, “Gertie Cranker”. Kind of has a ring to it. Yep, I like it.

  2. Heh….another suggestion is “Beds I’ve Slept In”, sort of a comparative analysis piece. My other thought is “The Table is Never Large Enough”, referring to these bed tables that come with hospital beds and on which I stack ice water, computers, pain pills, phone, comb, project notes, books I am reading……

  3. How about “Things I Wish I Didn’t Have Time To Do?” I’ll think twice next time I wish I had more time to get things done. It could be worse, though… you could be melting….MMMEELLLTINNGGG!

    The house that Judith built is still standing, and you trained your subjects well. We’ve made good decisions, and continue to look toward the future… but I miss you.

    I’m sending prayers, thoughts and positive energy your way, and have stolen all the blues from my children’s crayon box to color your cloud a crackling Eleuthera-ocean electric-sky blue.

    Who loves ya, baby?

  4. Another suggestion for the title of your book….”The Hippie Joint: Vacancy, Drugs Welcome”

    Well darn it all, Gertie. Lawrence and I are just flattened to hear this news. Honest, it was one collective…”holy sh@#$%T…this can’t be happening!” that blurted from both of our mouths.

    We’re just going to have to help paint that beautiful picture of crackling Eleuthera-ocean electric-sky blue with you. Do you have Skype? If so, what is your address? We can certainly help stimulate some endorphines and while away a little time on the cyber screen. We’ll bring some Hawaii blue to your room.

  5. My jaw dropped and I just reported the news to Ed who is watching the football game. Neither of us can believe this! Judith, you can just darn well get better now, enough of this crap!! And you said you weren’t sure you wanted to keep writing this blog, it is like a book that one can’t put down, twists and turns all through it, enough already!

    On a serious note, there was an electric blue cloud to the north of my home but I didn’t know what it was, now I realize that it is all the love and good wishes people are sending to you. You see them don’t you? There’s no way to miss it! Hang in there, smile even if you don’t think you want to it will fill that little built-in endorphin reserve.

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