CHANNELING ENERGY

The good news is:  it’s not emergency surgery so I’ve had time to prepare.  The bad news is:  I’ve had way, way too much time to think about it.   Weeks ago I made a routine visit to my doctor. She found lumps upstairs and downstairs.  I’ve been in and out of medical places getting things checked out ever since. 

The good news was:  nothing malignant that required immediate attention.  The plan became corrective surgery to repair and prevent suspicious things from becoming worse. Surgery was scheduled for last Tuesday until the surgeon decided I needed to clean out my sewer system so he could check out the reason for a positive test result.  Somehow I knew he was looking for ghosts.  He was surprised when I didn’t come unglued with the good news that everything was healthy; although very much in need of renovation.

The good news is:  anxiety for me results in nervous energy.  The important thing is to channel this energy.  Today I scrubbed floors.  I washed and bleached all four pillows for our bed.  I washed my favorite Egyptian cotton sheets.  I laundered my favorite fuzzy blankey and just about anything else that would fit in the washer.

 Since I will be spending most of Monday in the bathroom (AGAIN!),

I really scrubbed it down---with a toothbrush.  

I just made sure it wasn’t MY toothbrush.

 Note to self:   remove all body piercings. Wear clean underwear.

I’m putting myself in quarantine to avoid contact with snotty kids and also to avoid having to explain how my surgery was postponed for a week.  I think I’ll spend Sunday studying scriptures about “cleansing the inner vessel.”

FROM: "THE CREATIVE LICENSE"

WHAT IF WE TREATED DRIVING 

LIKE WE TREAT THE ARTS?

Mobia Boros and the two color ability of graphs of even degree

We'd assume that people were either born to drive or not.  We'd wait and see if, as children, they started driving on their own, if they had talent and a calling.  If they did, we would be careful not to interfere with their talent and possibly suppress it.

Worm Doodles

We would make sure to encourage only those who seemed they'd be able to drive professionally.  We'd pay some of them millions of dollars to drive and lavish them with fame; others we would refuse to support, encouraging them to do something more useful for society.

On location at Rialto Beach, Olympic National Park Sept. 1995

Everyone else would assume that they would never be able to drive and would just stand on the sidewalks and watch the traffic.  At least the ozone layer would be in better shape.

Quote from

"The Creative License--

Giving yourself permission to be the artist you truly are" 

by Danny Gregory

 Hyperion 2006 

FEELING LIKE A SOCK AND A COMMENT ON ART

Some things get better the more you try them, like riding bicycles, driving cars, sex, eating chocolate.  Some do not.  A colonoscopy is high on that list of NOT.  I'll keep it short and to the point.  After the night of nuclear laxatives and the morning of more paper dresses, and some sweet drugs.  I got to watch on live wide screen t.v., through slightly crossed eyes, what the doctors saw when they tried to turn me into a muppet.  There was lots of good news: my colon passed as clean in flying colors.  (I know, I saw it).  And they did not find my head up there.  I came home very, very happy and spent most of the rest of today in a drug induced semi-coma.

When I finally got back on my feet I did a little laundry.  I washed my socks and my jeans and my towels.  One sock was washed with the jeans and one sock went through with the towels.

Guess which one went where.  A hint.  They are supposed to be the same color.

Except for the bad effect on laundry, I really liked those drugs

And, now, a reason why I don't bother framing my paintings

to be hung in galleries.

DELAY OF GAME

Many thanks for all your kind wishes and promises of prayers for my scheduled operation.  I seriously can feel the lift that comes from all your thoughtful considerations.

We went in this morning for pre-op consultation and paper signing.  While we were there my doctor informed me he didn't like the results of one the tests.  He wants more information before he, "opens Pandora's box."

So today I got to put on a hospital gown and take a ride through the CT donut.  Tomorrow (wooohoooo!) colonoscopy.  This is not my first rodeo for this little procedure.  Not expecting much sleep tonite. Gonna be totally crapped out by tomorrow morning.

Friday will be another consultation with tentative plans for surgery NEXT Tuesday. Wish me luck for the ending of this moving-of-the-goal line game.

STIRRUPS AND PAPER DRESSES

A little while ago I finally got myself to my doctor for one of THOSE exams.  You know, the one ladies my age are supposed to have often but put off for—okay--years.  While my doctor had me on her exam table she did some checking and found a lump in my breast, another lump on my right ovary and something suspicious in the right side of my uterus.  Ruined my day.

My doctor immediately set up an appointment with a radiologist and also referred me to a gynecologist/surgeon.  The mammogram showed a cyst that looked benign, but they wanted me back in six months to check for changes.  After two different ultrasounds below my belly button the diagnosis was:  fibroid tumors in my uterus and an ovarian cyst.  I was told they looked non cancerous, but the gynecologist said he couldn’t be certain.  I was given the choice of wait and see, or surgery. Since I wasn’t planning to use my uterus again and since fibroids run in my family, I didn’t think waiting was a good option.  I’m scheduled for surgery on Tuesday. 

The gynecologist spent a lot of time with me explaining his background and experience in surgery and some of the procedures.  He never used the word, “hysterectomy,” probably because it’s so close to the word hysterical.  He called it “reconstructive surgery” and promised to also fix some other body parts that had been pulled from their moorings during a difficult delivery of a nine pound baby a long time ago. 

I explained to my boss that I’d be out of commission for two or three weeks.  He was very sympathetic and understanding. I mentioned that I hoped I could keep the one ovary.  He asked me why I wanted to keep my ovaries.  I really wanted to ask him right then if he wanted to keep his testicles, but thought better of it.

I’m getting my head around the idea of knives cutting me while I’m unconscious and the surrendering of my internal lady parts. Since they have been on vacation for several years, I’m hoping I won’t miss them too much. My biggest mistake was looking up bilateral uterine surgery on the internet.  Way, way too much information!

So I’m back to scrubbing my house and doing what I can to keep my mind too busy to think about Tuesday.  So far I’m making good progress on the first project and failing miserably on the second.

 Maybe I’ll get some good drugs out of this.  I guess I should shave my legs.