surgery

Coming Out the Other Side + Holiday Special (A Love Letter)

Years ago I read a science fiction novel, the name and author of which is long lost in the mists of time and my brain. A female scientist (I think), living on another planet (of course), was studying an alien life form that appeared in the form of lights in a lake. The lights blinked on and off, saying I am here. I am alive. I am here.

I’m like one of those alien light forms. I am here! I am alive! I am here!

I made it through surgery with flying colors.  I woke in the recovery room, looked at the nurse, and said, “That’s it? It’s all done?” I was so amazed to remember nothing after being wheeled into the operating room—and then wake up two hours later, with nothing but blankness in between.

That was a week and a half ago and I’m doing great.  I’ve got very little pain, less than what I had before the surgery, to be honest. I’ve ditched my walker and am getting around easily with just a cane. (My advice to anybody getting hip replacement surgery: find a doc who does the direct superior approach. It is far less invasive and offers a much quicker recovery.) I’m working hard at physical therapy, doing my at-home exercises, and trying very hard not to do too much too fast.

And I am grateful. So, so grateful. It is such a gift to be given a second chance—an opportunity to live without pain. It’s a cliché bordering on the ludicrous to establish a gratitude practice, but the last few nights I’ve found myself spontaneously listing what and who I’m grateful for as I fall asleep.  My surgeon, all the nurses who cared for me, family, friends, and of course—you.

You who read my weekly missives, join the Facebook group, and read my blog posts. And so, in the spirit of this past weekend’s Black Friday/Small Business Saturday and the upcoming Cyber Monday, I am offering my own mine-sale.

Here’s the deal: two options, listed below. Please be aware that I won’t be booking any appointments until mid-December at the earliest. But you can grab the discount prices now and use the sessions any time over the next year. Prices good through Wednesday, November 28th at midnight Pacific time.

Also, please be aware that my rates will be going up in 2019.  I’ve had coaches yelling at me for years to raise them and it is time. So take advantage of one of these deals while you can!

You can pay direct by using the buttons below. Thank you!

 One Hour Coaching Session, during which we can talk about your work (you can send me up to 10 pages), brainstorm plot ideas, or talk about how to get your writing practice back on track.  $100.

 

Three Months Coaching at a killer price.   12 sessions of coaching, consisting of me reading 10-15 pages and a 30 minute phone or Skype conversation. $1,200. (You will NEVER get this low  price again.)



 

Hope you had a great Thanksgiving!

(No photos today because for some reason the media library is not accessible.)

 

Remembering, The Task of a Writer

At the hospital, time flows differently.

It moves slowly during long stretches of waiting for something to happen.  Then, all of a sudden, everything happens at once.  The nurse arrives for a blood pressure check, someone comes in to draw blood, a technician arrives to cart the patient off for a X-ray.

The patient is my 92-year-old mother, and this is our second foray to the ER in two days, for cellulitis, compounded by a fall which resulted in a hairline hip fracture.

The ER, the hospital, and the world of medicine is a foreign environment to me.  We are not a family of doctors or nurses.  For the most part, we tend to be wonderfully healthy.  So this is a new world for me, one I don't always understand.  I try to keep my eyes open and my attention focused so that I can remember.

Remember what the doctor says so that I can tell my family.

Remember the details of the experience in case I want to write them.

Remember because it seems important.  Through remembering, we exist. 

Remembering is the writer's way of staying present.  By noting the details, committing them to memory in my head or on the page, I'm here now.  I'm not worrying about calling a client or whether or not I'll be able to get to Nashville.

Remembering is one of the most important tasks of the writer. 

Remember, because to not remember dishonors our present.  Remember because others–like my mother–cannot.  Remember because it is important to bear witness.  And sometimes bearing witness is all we've got.

It is enough.  It is more than enough.

Update:  After hip surgery and several days in the hospital, we got my Mom into a nursing home this morning.  She'll be there doing short-term rehab for the next couple of weeks.  After that, its anybody's guess….but we're hoping to find her a nice adult foster care placement.