I can't do it. This is waaaaay too much pressure. I feel you sitting there waiting to see my first post op blog and waiting for it to be brilliant and witty and I feel SO MUCH responsibility that I CAN'T DO IT! I am completely paralyzed! You have to understand that I have been lying in a hospital bed for two weeks with nothing but my thoughts and from the moment that I pushed the morphine button for the first time those thoughts went straight to...THE BLOG...
I lay there for two weeks thinking of what to write. Five in the morning, noon, four a.m....Lying there thinking about the damn blog. In my mind I wrote a million beginning sentences and then things got all blurry and I realized I was writing Play It As It Lays and maybe with only half a stomach I will lose half my brain power and I won't be able to connect my thoughts anymore and since I have to eat so little what is left of my brain is almost completely occupied with thoughts of food. I watched the food channel endlessly and I learned to cook the most fabulous Mediterranean burger and a peach cobbler to die for but see...That's rambling. Who cares about that? Don't I have any original thoughts anymore? I need food! And you would think at this point that I would be thin as a rail but what is up with that? I'm not! Barely lost a pound. But I tell myself that that is a good thing even though it is counter intuitive to everything I knew pre op.
Oh my mind, my mind. Where is that morphine button when you really need it? Okay, I will give you one example of my surreal visit to St. Johns (or as you know what we Jews call it...Sir Johns) You've heard about the THE TUBE. The one that ran into my nose and down my throat to my stomach. The one that was in for eight days!! Well, they pull that thing OUT THROUGH YOUR NOSE! OH MY GOD. Please don't tell me that you're going to do THAT. But she did. Very calmly. OH MY GOD. There's a very long thing coming out of my nose. That's when you know that you are really just a slab of beef. A piece of meat. (Thank you Michael McClure.) They can pull things out of your entire body and it's not sexy and it's not fun. Just plain weird.
But I did have a thought about what to write and it goes something like this...
AND THE AWARD THIS YEAR FOR BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN INVALID GOES TO...
"Oh my God it's me. It's me. I can't believe it! (kiss kiss) Oh my God. (applause. runs up to the stage. takes the statue of a man with an I.V.) Thank you! Thank you! (audience keeps applauding.) Please. Sit. Oh my gosh. This is just unreal. First I would like to say how humbled I am to be in a catagory with all of those other fabulous invalids. The coughing, the spewing, the farting...What can I say? First, I would like to thank God for giving me this cancer. Without Him...or Her...I wouldn't be up here right now. Second, I would like to thank a few special people who helped me become the invalid that I am today. Dennis, Dierdre, Katey...Your pictures, your love, your company...You are beautiful and amazing and I am so lucky to know you. To look up in my stupor and see your smiling faces made me feel like I was home.
Andy...What can I say? I knew you would be the perfect stand in blogger but I didn't know you would be there to help me figure out how to get to the bathroom attached to all the crap I was attached to. I didn't know you would go get me peanut butter and a banana. I didn't know what a truly beautiful person you were until the last two weeks. Thank you is not strong enough an expression but since my brain is a bit addled...Thank you.
(Now stay off my blog! And don't give away the password!)
And lastly...My son...A Prince among men. He was there, every minute of every day. He reached up into the Universe and grabbed the star that said Young Man and he took hold of it and he rode the emotional roller coaster with so much calm and intelligence that I am beyond proud. I love you Will. More than you can ever know."
(exit music plays)
"And there are more people. You know who you are. I love y..................(and they drag her off the stage and she is so wearing the wrong shoes.)
So anyway, that's one of thoughts that went through my tiny mind.
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6 comments:
Glad to see you are BACK with a capital B.
The main questions are not what shoes are you wearing but rather what you are wearing at the ceremony! And then what the hotel room -Oscar babes are saying about what you're wearing?
So wonderful to hear that you have been surrounded by such love and devotion for the past two weeks. You've done this your very own way and I see directing in your future...
(Can you eat a raw diet? I'm into Leaf Cuisine right now-trying to cut out wheat and dairy. The enzymes are really good for you.)
xxx
June
so glad to hear you're home. ridiculous to think after two weeks of torture and nary (anyone know how to spell that?) a raisin, you are down a mere pound. sad reality - this is part of the vast conspiracy against jews. I mean, name a gentile who doesnt eat for two weeks and still fits in their pants.
following your progress from the other coast is tough -- can't even bring over some low salt chicken soup. sounds like you are in great hands. and, what a treat to turn around and find your son has become such a fine young man.
welcome home darling
yes-- the down side-- you are not as thin as Paris but then the upside is that you are not as thin as Paris.
i think the image i like the best is the spaghetti coil of twine leaving your body endlessly thru your nose.. ah yes. a great image. don't the yogi's do that while standing on one foot?
to will-- well done. well done. not easy to give good son while mom is less than glamourous
and
trish, Shanah Tovah.. as my bubbe used to say:
'A geete nu yeer
a mazeldicha yeer-
god bless you
gesunheit
stay well-'
day by day kid
hope to see you soon
xxoo
susan
It seems like it was just last week that I was marveling at your play and now I hear that you’ve been ill. (Maybe Billy Mernit told me? I’m not sure.) But I don’t have to wonder how you’re doing because you have a blog! It feels a bit like eavesdropping but I’m glad to read that you are recovering and getting stronger (and funnier) every day! Just wanted you to know that I was out here cheering you on. Much love, Cindy Mollo
Seconding Cindy... Wanted to let you know I'm out here cheering you on, girl. Welcome home!
All my best,
D.
Trish
The ordeal is made all the better by the fact that it's OVER. Gotta love that morphine button, but keep it at a safe distance after this is past. Really hope to see your smiling face at the park soon, all the DORCs are asking about you and wish you well.
Keep on trucking, you are tough as nails (and I don't mean the kind on the end of your fingers),
John
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