There are people who take the heart out of you, and there are people who put it back.
Elizabeth David
…and sometimes a cat.
Thanks to all who give of their hearts.
Mine is yours, too.
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My blogger friend Lori asked me what I thought of the Oscars. The answer, as seen in in this slightly outdated photo of me: friends, I cried.
First, I cried at all the excitement and hope of the people in attendance, the fans waiting for a glimpse of a star. Then of course, it was the dresses, the beautifully draped fabrics, shimmering, violet, blue, red, and gold. Then it was the winners (none of them disappointments, for once) and their heartfelt speeches. I kept exclaiming, aloud to myself, “That’s so nice!” and “How sweet!” Then it was the fact that a woman won best director for the first time in history yet did not make it about that but rather the film and the infinitely brave people who place themselves in harm’s way every single day, at home and abroad. There was no shortage of tears. Thank goodness I was alone, for a guest might not have known what to do with Little Miss Waterworks. Heck, I’m a little weepy as I type this, in memory, and the fact that the sound track to Out of Africa is playing in the background, and that, like so much music, always gets to me.
In all honesty, I cry a lot, for all manner of reasons: joy, kindness, love, cruelty, injustice, fear, longing, and, sometimes, I honestly couldn’t tell you why. The tears just come. I used to be embarrassed by this fact, which was made worse by someone exclaiming, and not in a friendly way, “You cry at the drop of a hat!” But in his infinite love and understanding, and my great privilege, the hubster told me it was such a gift, to feel so openly and honestly. I just can’t help myself, nor do I want to.
I am waking up, realizing this isn’t very specific to the actual Oscars, besides the crying, so a list:
* I liked the Neil Patrick Harris opener, but not because I like numbers like this, I just like him. He’s got gusto and makes me laugh.
* Alec and Steve were a little off in the opening but came into their own. I especially liked their hotel room scene.
* I really liked the dancing to the music of the best original score nominees.
* I liked the tribute to John Hughes, felt a little confused by the horror tribute (Jaws is horror?), and very sad when I remembered everyone who died, especially Brittany Murphy.
*As I stated earlier, for the first time I can remember, I wasn’t disappointed by any of the winners, so that was nice.
Great Tuesday greetings blog friends! I have a killer headache from some nasty head cold I can’t seem to shake. I feel well for a couple of days, and then it sneaks in through the back door, and I feel terrible for another day or two. So much for the super-hero immunity I thought I had. Boo.
Anyhoo, I can’t think very clearly, so you get some random thoughts about me.
1. I cry while watching award shows. So much sincerity and the love of telling and sharing stories, for aren’t we all a collection of words, experiences, and emotions?
2. I love peanut butter. Have I told you this before? I can’t remember. With jelly or chocolate, in a spicy satay, on a pancake, sprinkled with smoky salt, or slathered on a rye crisp.
3. I believe in the power of architecture: wood, steel, glass, concrete, and LOVE.
4. I love ruffles, pearls, velvet, and brooches – all the trappings of a woman with a girlish heart.
5. I love smoked fish – sardines, salmon, trout – best when purchased in early morning, at a shack by the sea, dearest friend at my side, the scent of the sea and warm smoky fish filling the air. A slice of heaven, for sure.
Hello all. I hope you’re having a good day. This chum is feeling a little glum, can’t really say why either. I felt pretty and inspired by this outfit and took a photo that I like; I’ve been dancing up a storm with Yoga Trance Dance and Nia; and the weather’s been mighty fine too, a nice combination of sun and rain (rainbows, too), good for walking and raking and being inside for my Monday top-to-bottom housecleaning and laundry extravaganza, followed by my 4:00 appointment on the sofa, switching between The Newshour and Oprah at the Texas State Fair. Darn it all, if this weren’t the week the hubster and I are eating vegan, as well as wheat, sugar, and alcohol-free, I’d be chowing on a corn dog and frying up some PBJ sammies with a whiskey chaser. Mmm-hmm.
As the hubster would say, “Some days are diamonds, some are cubic zirconias.” I seem to be making a cubic zirconia bracelet. Maybe it’s the hormones. I’d like to blame everything on them. I’m still taking a high dose and have every side effect listed on the warnings: zits, headaches, dizziness, sleeplessness, drowsiness (don’t ask me how both are possible – it’s scientific!), weight gain, moodiness, and confusion. I’ve been getting lost in the middle of a sentence. I also have occasional night sweats, too. I wake up soaked through, but not hot or cold. Weird.
The upside: now that the I have recovered from my surgery, I am in hog heaven. I can’t remember the last time I went this long without being in dire pain in the lower regions, probably twenty-five years. This is good news and reason to smile. I’m smiling, at least.
In other news, I had an awesome bird sighting in our back yard. I was going downstairs and as I walked past the window I saw something bigger than my usual bird friends on the move. I stopped and realized it was a hawk, just a bit larger than a crow, with a red breast and a beautiful striped tail. With the help of my friend at the bird shop, we determined it was a young Cooper’s Hawk (aptly named – we’re big Cooper fans around here). I wanted to take a photo of it, but the batteries in the camera were dead at the time. Thankfully, I had the good sense to stop and just enjoy the moment rather than run around like a nut and miss this special visitor.
Finally, some ethereal visitors, growing in the side yard with the kinnikinnick. We got up early on Saturday and raked leaves in the brisk morning air. These were glowing magically in the light. Pretty neat, huh? Gosh, with all of this in mind, maybe it’s a diamond day after all. I think I’ll take a bath and think about it!
I got stung by a wasp on Sunday afternoon. The hubster and I were gardening, and I felt what I thought was a sequoia needle stabbing into me. When I looked down to move my foot out of the way of said needle, I saw the wasp bouncing off my ankle, like a little basketball, over and over. I yelped, both at the realization and because it really hurt. I thought I came out of it relatively unscathed until yesterday afternoon, when my foot swelled up like a little balloon, nearly twenty-four hours after being stung. To be honest, I think I brought this on myself, as the inflammation only occurred after a rather vigorous scratching. My goodness friends, it itches! So here I am, swollen footed, gimpy, writing about soup and fish, delicious velvety soup and fish. George Costanza would eat it with pride.
Velvety Squash Soup
1 winter squash, about 2 1/2 pounds (I used a kabocha – it looks like a dark green pumpkin)
olive oil
salt
1 medium onion, diced
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons curry powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 – 4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1 cup coconut milk
cayenne pepper (to taste, optional)
Cut the squash into large chunks. If you have a hard time getting your blade through the hard flesh, try gently tapping the knife with a hammer. I wish I could give proper credit for this discovery, because it works wonders! Place on a baking pan and drizzle the pieces with olive oil and sprinkle with salt. Roast in a 350 degree oven for 45 minutes to one hour, until soft. Remove from oven and allow to cool.
In a medium soup pot, saute the onion with the butter and salt until the onion is soft. Add three cups of broth and the curry powder and simmer over low heat. Once the squash is cool enough to handle, scoop out the flesh and add to the onion curry broth. Using an immersion blender, blend the mixture until smooth. (If you don’t have an immersion blender, use a regular one, adding the squash in batches. Use very little broth as you blend, or you will have a hot mess splattered everywhere. This is the voice of experience talking and why I have the immersion variety. Put it back in the pan as you go.) Add the coconut milk and correct the seasoning and thickness of the soup. It may need more broth, salt, or curry. If you’d like it spicier, add the optional cayenne now. Eat now or continue to simmer over low heat while you prepare the fish.
Floating Fish
2 fillets of firm white fish (neutral flavored cod or halibut are best)
curry powder
salt
Place fish on a baking pan and sprinkle with curry and salt. Place under the broiler for about 3-5 minutes, depending on thickness. Remove from oven, gently turn over, and season the second side. Broil until the flesh is opaque, another 3-5 minutes.
Ladle soup into serving bowls and gently float the fillet on top. It looks so pretty and tastes even better.
Enjoy!
My sad foot. I hope this doesn’t turn you off from the soup, but I had to share. It’s what I do.
Yesterday was a great day. I felt the strongest I have had since my surgery. Feeling rather invigorated, I walked around the block twice without any discomfort and lifted some light weights. I could even shimmy well enough that I decided I would be fit to drive today. It didn’t matter where – the grocery store, lunch, anywhere. I was determined to get in the car and G-O. Too bad my body had other plans, for, despite a very good night’s sleep and a lovely bath this morning, I am exhausted, mentally and physically. I can only stand for brief periods without feeling woozy, and my large incision feels as though someone has taken a rather dull needle to sew it up again. On top of that, even though my narcotics consumption is limited to one pain pill when I go to bed, my mind is very much like mush. What the heck happened?
Then I saw all the splendor out in the garden and came upon this quotation by Ben Okri:
“Don’t depair too much if you see beautiful things destroyed. Because the best things are always growing in secret.” Suddenly, I felt better. Not like I could drive or miraculously be pain free, but lighter in spirit, because I know this is true.
For those of you who haven’t visited our red roofed house, we have an old fence surrounding the back yard, nearing the end of it’s life in several places. Next to this fence is the rocky area where we park the Subaru and, despite our best efforts, cultivate many species of dandelion, clover, and vetch. I am the first to admit that it isn’t the prettiest sight to see. But duck under the low apple branches and open the gate and there is loveliness in every corner: flowers blooming, food growing, birds chirping, and bees zooming.
Then I thought of my own precious body and the secrets it’s keeping from me, even when I feel destroyed. It is healing and growing in its own time and its own way. I need only patiently wait, and all will be revealed.
Hello my friends!
Gosh, it feels so good to be back in blogland! Now if I could just be in the land of the fully mobile and conscious, that would be grand. I am not complaining, however. I feel better with each passing day, requiring smaller doses of narcotics to keep the pain down, while gaining more strength and mobility. When I first got home, I was popping pills like crazy and had to use my walker (remember that?) every time I wanted to go anywhere, though my trips were mostly limited between our bed and the bathroom. Going all the way to the kitchen was considered a big feat!
Now, I only need the walker about half of the time, moving quite freely on the first floor of the house. I don’t know when I will muster up the strength to go upstairs, but, thanks to my superstar hubster and guest blogger, I have practically everything I need in our bedroom: a borrowed air conditioner for this hellish weather (107 today, ugh), a boom box, television, lap top, watercolors, books, and snacks! It’s pretty darn cool, pun intended.
Endometriosis
Since a lot of people have asked questions about the endometriosis that led me to my surgery and this cozy bedroom lair, I thought I’d give a little information about it, and why it was causing so much trouble for me. In a nutshell, endometriosis is when tissue from inside the uterus migrates elsewhere in the pelvic cavity (no one knows why, when, or how). It is problematic because it has hormones and a monthly period just like the uterus, only it can’t exit the body like a normal period does, so it stays inside a woman’s abdomen, where it creates adhesions, like scar tissue. Think about it like this – you spill something on the counter without cleaning it up right away. When you return in a few hours, you touch the spot and your hand sticks to it, and sometimes even creates a kind of gooey, taffy-like bond. Only with endometriosis, you can’t wash it off. The taffy just spreads, connecting tissue and organs that have no business being such close neighbors, and, at least in my case, causing some pretty intense pain.
This is why my surgery could not be completed laparoscopically, and I had to be opened up. My insides were so thoroughly bound and twisted with taffy-like adhesions that my doctor needed to get inside and carefully cut everything apart. Thankfully, she was able to do so. In the process, she removed my uterus (complete with a large adenomyoma), my fist-sized right ovary, both fallopian tubes, as many adhesions as she could, and then zapped the remaining visible endometriosis with a really good laser. It’s no wonder it took over six hours!
Waves
Being in the hospital was a very emotional experience for me, like I was out at sea and riding a series of waves to shore, to home, and with each wave came a different emotion: gratitude, release, sadness, disbelief, joy, and wonder. Gratitude - I survived my surgery. I was alive, and the healing process was underway. Release – I am a pretty independent person, but in this situation, I had to, quite literally, hand my body over to strangers. They fed me, clothed me, bathed me, all with great kindness, compassion, and respect. Sadness – Even though I had never wanted children, I felt sad that this definitively left that choice out of my hands, though I guess it never really was. I am not driving this bus! Disbelief – For my recovery, I was placed in the Family Birthing Center, as the staff there would best know how to treat someone in my condition. Perhaps this seems a logical choice for someone who has already had children, but for me, it seemed a bit, well, odd. The lady who can never have children, infertile Myrtle, chockablock with mothers and babies? This same feeling of disbelief, however, was replaced by Joy – To be in the most precious place in a hospital, to witness those first days of life, the first tiny cries, each beautiful babe swaddled, hatted, and loved by all. Finally Wonder – There is so much kindness in the world, so many talented people doing their best work, so much love, and I am a living, breathing part of it all.
Thank You
Now it is time for some shout-outs. First and foremost, to my amazing husband. Through our eighteen years of my increasing pain and suffering, he has always been a source of great love and support. I could not imagine a better partner or friend, no siree Bob. During my hospital stay, it was the hours he was there that I felt most safe. Listening to him type away on his laptop or hearing his whispers in the dark, it was almost as if I were home and not hooked to a catheter, pulse oximeter, and an IV. I was free.
My fantastic doctors. First, to Petra Caruso, Naturopathic MD. One of the most kind and compassionate health care professionals I have ever had the privilege to meet, she has been on this journey with me for nearly two years, constantly striving to find new, healthy solutions to make my life more comfortable. When she realized our options had been exhausted, she recommended my awesome specialist, Dr. Liz Newhall. Oh goodness, I am ever so pleased to have found her way while on my own. She is an amazingly talented woman, highly educated in her craft of women’s health, with a heart and humor to match. After my surgery, when I asked her how bad it was, and she told me that it was one of the worst cases she’d seen in her thirty years of practice, she said, “You would have won a blue ribbon at the fair, no doubt about it.”
YOU, the people of cyberspace, across the street, across town, across the world. Thank you so much for your prayers, kind thoughts, cards, meals, visits, everything. I felt and continue to feel so bouyed by all the love being sent my way, so incredibly grateful to be alive!
Patio Time
Hi all! Colleen was discharged from the hospital yeserday, July 25th. As much relief as I feel having her home I am also extremely grateful for her experience in the hospital. It is absolutely fascinating to see how fast the body heals and changes.
I can’t help but be amazed, grateful, and not just a little shocked at all the external “hook-ups” that had to be connected to Colleen during this time:
- Catheter – Well, we all have to pee don’t we? (no pun intended!)
- “Pain Pump” – This particular device delivered morphine directly to the abdomen. I can’t really give many more details about this one since none of the nurses knew how to use it!
- Blood Monitor – A very strange light connected to the end of Colleen’s finger, this was responsible for measuring the amount of oxygen her blood was carrying around. Effectively, this monitored how she was breathing.
- Oxygen tube- As a result of the blood monitor going off, additional oxygen was needed for proper breathing, particular during periods of sleep. You know, the little tube under the nose…
- IV – Ahh, the “intake tube” we’ve all seen in the movies. I don’t really know how to describe seeing somebody not needing to eat real food and having everything (including medication) delivered ‘on-demand’. “Convenient”, “scary”, “miraculous”, “bizarre”… I could go on and on, but this is certainly one of the most critical components to Colleen being ok, for sure.
Needless to say, I am so happy to see her up and walking around and not needing one of the previously mentioned connections. I know she has a long way to go before she is 100%, but what she has been through has been fairly eye-opening to me in my little software writing world.
Hematocrit Levels
(Grain of salt warning: I may have the numbers wrong here, but I don’t think so…) We were slightly worried that she wouldn’t be able to come home because of her “Hematocrit Level“. 38% is about average for a woman. Fortunately, thanks to Colleen, her level was about at 42% when she went in to surgery. After surgery it was about 28%… Then 25%… Then 22%… So, this was the piece that made me nervous during recovery! Her last test went back up to 25! Yippie! The doctor told us that this can fluctuate quite a bit due to various factors – drugs, hydration, etc… so a particular number is not critical. Since this can mean internal bleeding, however, it is critical that this number stabilize. Seeing it stabilize was crucial. I suspect she will have another test before week’s out, but it looks good!
Thanks
I don’t really know what else to say besides “thank you”. Thanks to everybody who has had a kind word for Colleen, sent a flower, or just had a moment of contemplation about how really valuable the people around you are.
P.S. I probably won’t post as much as I will be quite short on time come tomorrow. I am hopeful, however, that Colleen will be back to her bloggin self in no time!
Happy Day
I just wanted to post some status on Colleen. She is doing very well after having switched to oral medication. Therefore, she is no longer connected to an IV or feeling nauseous from the constant stream of Dilaudid.
Her “stryker box” has also been removed. A baking soda sized device, this was delivering medication directly to the incision site. Apparently it is fairly ‘new fangled’, and most nurses don’t know how to use it. (We think it stopped delivering anything about a day ago!). Regardless, “her annoying purse” has been removed. She was forced to have this hanging around her neck.
The vital sign monitor is no longer on her finger either. Bottom line is that there is just one tiny tube connected to her in case she needs an IV again, but we suspect that will be gone shortly.
She’s been able to walk around a little and hopes to walk out of the hospital sometime this afternoon (with a little help, of course).
It has certainly been an interesting week and, at times, a little scary. It is good to see Colleen feel more like herself (if not still in a bit of pain). All and all she is doing very well, considering what she has been through.
(Editing by Colleen)
Hello friends -
I hope your day is going well. It is a beautiful one here, sunny and warm enough to have the windows open, cats lying in various belly exposing prostrations. Very nice.
I wish my disposition were more like the weather, to be frank. I am a little melancholy thinking about yesterday – the one year anniversary of the completion of my novel, Polite Society. It is a bit strange to think that I finished it that long ago. The worst bit, and the one getting me down, is the fact that none of the many agents or publishers I submitted my work to has opened their doors to me, grabbed me by the shoulders in utter delight and said, “This is great! Let’s get it published!”
However, as I sit with this and wonder what it really means, what I really want, I’m not so sure. I finished a novel. I really did, one that makes me proud and giggly at the same time. That fact will never change. As for what I want, sometimes I think it is money. Other times, I think it is about having people read what I believe is a magical story.
Speaking to the money part, I have never made much, ever. Most of the time, I am okay with this. Other times, like today, I only look at myself in disappointment that I’m not contributing financially to our household. That being said, when I was working for a dollar, I wasn’t very happy, actually quite crabby, a little bitchy, and awfully whiny. Writing, however, I really like. I love the conversations in my head, the accumulation of words and ideas. Oh yes, I like it very much.
Why then, do I get so hung up on this? Being happy is much better than having a paycheck. Besides, how would having more money change my life, anyway? Greg and I already live comfortably. We spend wisely and have no debt besides our mortgage. We travel, watch movies, eat good food, give to charity. What else do I want?
For a while, I thought it was a house in the country, but have since realized that, social girl that I am, I would be a bit lonely. As for our house, maybe we would finally get our bathroom refinished. It is old and quite ugly. The carpet upstairs isn’t it the best shape, and the basement isn’t finished. So I guess I would like those things to be done, but I can’t say my quality of life would be drastically improved should this happen.
Now about people reading my work. That’s already been done by several friends and some strangers. (An aside here, my friend Maria did a great job of finding many, many typos here recently, some of which I had already corrected, many not. I am very grateful.) Anyway, everyone likes it, and I don’t believe any of them to be liars.
I guess the real problem is my silly head. The only time I feel upset is when I start comparing myself to other people or idealized versions of myself. In the grand scheme of things, I am the only one who can make me happy, ever. No amount of people reading my book, money, or success can change this, not one bit.
Oh goodness, finally, I am smiling. More money and a popular novel might make my bathroom look nice, take me on a book tour, and give me a slot on the New York Times best seller list, but it won’t give me what I already have: a wonderful marriage, a great home in a city that I love, good friends, cute and cuddly cats, the list goes on.
I think what is really on order is a bit of patience and some kindness toward myself. There is no rush here. If the doors open, I’ll be delighted. If not, I’ve already got it pretty good. Thanks for listening to me work it through.
