If thoughts were gold, this could buy the United States back from China.
Years ago two boys, ages 5 and 7, sat upon a rock ledge jutting out from the side of a gently sloping hill. The granite ledge was just high enough and wide enough to make a natural bench, providing an expansive view of the valley below. It was so many years ago that neither of the boys was old enough to know or understand the ‘facts of life’.
“We do too have a dad. Mom says all boys and girls have dads,” said Matthew, the younger of the two.
Tomas, two whole years older and thus oh so much more knowledgeable, replied, “Yeah, well mom also told us that Santa Claus was real. Remember that?”
“Other kids have them.”
“No, dummy, dads.”
“All of ’em? How do you know? What about Ron, huh? Where’s his dad? How come everybody *has* to have a dad? What if he doesn’t? Will he…
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Random token for the day: I quit smoking (!!!) a couple of weeks ago and finally stuck with it. Go me. 🙂
It was a long time coming. A pack and a half a day, of cigars. Cherry clove cigars, which are nowhere near as nasty or unattractive as they sound.
But I quit, so high five.
I’m still on these God-awful IV antibiotics (the side effects of which are a lot like Influenza on steroids), after a total of three surgeries for this flesh-eating nonsense (MRSA Cellulitis, and can you believe that that’s what it took for me to finally quit smoking?).
Three surgeries in two months. The kind of surgery where you go home with a ferocious open wound and have brutal daily home health visits to pack the wound –like a Thanksgiving turkey– with some sort of miracle gauze that costs as much as the boob job I never got. Almost.
I should be a tourist attraction, a guest star on Ripley’s Believe It Or Not or a featured act in Barnum and Bailey’s Side Show of Circus Freaks.
The whole thing sucks balls.
Totally off topic (sort of): have you heard about the mermaids? Actual mermaids. Barnum & Bailey’s claimed to have one in the 1920’s but the NYC warehouse in which it was stored burnt down in a terrific fire, three days prior to the mermaid’s grand debut– so no one believed it. There’s new scientific evidence (sound recordings and deep sea film footage too) suggesting that mermaids might well be an undocumented species. Honestly, look it up.
Anyway, I’m healing (which is wonderful) and finding encouragement in the most unexpected places. Prior to this infectious disease nonsense I planted fifty-eight random packages of flower seeds. You should see around my house now. A huge variety of flowers all standing at attention like some sort of triumphant reckoning with all the bad luck I’ve had. Hollyhocks and bright red sunflowers, snapdragons and zinnias and peonies and nasturtum and hundreds of others all defiantly sprouting up like a pat on the back, as if to say “Hey mama, it’s all good.”
The honeysuckle too. It’s taken upon itself to spread out like a dog in heat across the perimeter of our property. The boys LOVE this.
You can’t imagine how wonderful it smells here, sitting on the front porch drinking sweet tea and not smoking for a change, resisting the awareness of what horrific pain I’m in and simply feeling grateful to be alive.
It really is the little things in life that become the big things.
Now go check out the mermaids for yourself. 😉
So, I’m in the hospital.
What started as a random ingrown hair quickly turned into a grapefruit-sized abscess (literally), and from there it progressed into a nasty case of MRSA Cellulitis.
After an immediate admission to the hospital and an extensive series of cultures, labwork, imaging tests, and consultations with infectious disease specialists and surgeons and many other doctors whose specialties I can’t recall — all of whom were dutifully dressed in their haz-mat suit-resembling ensemble — I was suddenly being wheeled into surgery.
The surgery was totally unexpected. It was invasive and cosmetically horrifying. Envision yourself coming out of anesthesia only to discover a massive, wide-open, gaping wound large enough to fit your entire fist inside — and deep enough to get halfway up your forearm. You think you’re grossed out?
Okay, I’ll spare you the rest of the details.
While in recovery from surgery, I developed another abscess. I’m currently on an infusion of various and ridiculously hard-core I.V. antibiotics– most of which have little to no effect whatsoever against the MRSA.
However, I’m also well-supplied with a nice variety of chill-out-and-feel-merry medications, which make it much easier to feel hopefully nonchalant about the whole ordeal.
Really, it’s just staph. 🙂
I’ve missed reading all of your wonderful posts and hearing all of your beautiful thoughts and hearing how your lives are going. I’ve received so many comments that I still haven’t responded to; just so you know, each one is invaluable to me. Your words hold weight and I promise to respond as soon as I can.
You know, once I get rid of this flesh-eating bacteria.
Your prayers and healing thoughts are appreciated, and I can’t wait to be healthy and home and reading your brilliant thoughts again. 🙂
Recently my life turned itself inside out. It’s less unpleasant than I expected but the feeling of it all has me on my toes and rather dizzy.
I am busy, but I’m here. Thinking of the many incredible and diverse people I encounter on my blog. Reflecting on the countless ways every single one of you contribute to my heart, my spirit, and ultimately my life.
Despite this relentless wilderness I’m in, I find myself still yet contemplating how the world is unfolding its endless majesties for each of you.
Just so you know.
You matter to me, amidst the infinite other things. If you have a minute you can make my day. Whisper your goings and comings my way; I will welcome the news and the sounds of you.
Your ordinary acts of love and hope point to the extraordinary promise that every human life is of inestimable value.