But, it’s mostly done, the gall-bladder-ectomistostomy*, or whatever-you-call-it, was successful, and the medicos evicted the evil-doer on Wednesday, April 4, 2007. Then I got to deal with three days of horrendous pain in my shoulders and diaphragm from the insufflation, where they pump you full of air so they have visibility while they’re working in the laparascopic incisions. The ubiquitous “them” who apparently make these decisions have decided that the following pain is from the carbon dioxide pressure on your diaphragm, which is then “referred” up to your shoulders. It’s this sick, horrible feeling of pressure and pain wandering throughout your upper chest that had me in tears, even on the Percocet.
Now all that’s left is the usual muscle soreness and pain from being cut open (admittedly small cuts, don’t want to over-dramatize) (too late! sorry…), which in the scheme of things doesn’t feel that awful. Down to three pills a day instead of ten or twelve, so my brains are almost completely functional. Well, they’re as functional as they’ve ever been, anyway.
Anyway – the lovely folks from DFW Writers’ Workshop made me feel so good about myself visually from the compliments regarding the photographs. They also made me feel good on the writerly side, as one of the e-mails was from Del Cain asking for five seven-word poems** and my selection of five of my other poems for potential publication in an anthology of the poetry of the Workshop over the last few years. That was to be my next project, had I stayed, but now Del and Ginnie Bivona are taking it on. Hope I didn’t rat you out, Del, or announce it in advance, when you hadn’t planned to say anything yet. Anyway, I’m flattered and pleased that they didn’t just take current members, that they remembered that I was there.
So, it was an interesting Easter. Back to work tomorrow, certainly not full-time, but back anyway. I will be wearing sweats, something I expressly asked folks not to do, but that’s OK. Won’t make it if I wear my khakis. I’ll be back in ’em soon enough.
*It’s a cholecystectomy, I know… it’s called writing for effect!
**Seven-word poems were (and are) a workshop tool for inspiration and perspiration on the part of the poets. Everyone puts a word in the hat, and seven are chosen for the next poetry workshop. You may participate or not, but it gives something concrete to work with. People also bring their other works, as well, but the seven-word poetry has provided some enormous boosts to making me put things together that drew me out of my ordinarily self-focused style. Great hint for any poetry workshop.