Here is my list:
1. I had minor surgery last week. Teeny Tiny Practically Nothing Surgery. It was the scariest thing ever. I kept thinking about how weird it was that they were going to put me to sleep and then cut me open. Isn’t that kind of weird?
And then when I woke up (after apparently thrashing around and being crazy and having to get more drugs to calm me down) I didn’t breathe so great so then we were there WAY longer than I expected and I thought for sure they had implanted something inside me while I was out. Because who would know? Is there some kind of camera or police for surgeons? Because I was OUT, people. OUT. And this happens every day. It was really quite freaky.
While I was trying to breathe, I started to write a whole horror novel in my head that has probably already been written and it was going to be really good and I can’t decide what they’d put inside me but it’d be epic. Like a microwave or a map of India.
This experience made me want to get back to writing.
2. Another part of this experience that I’d like to share even though it’s illegal, right? To know any of my medical history? Or is that just if someone else told you these creepy stories but then how would they know unless they somehow got access to my brain which could have totally happened while i was COMPLETELY asleep. Anyway, before the surgery they wheeled me into this holding area. I thought this was strange. There were five women in beds, hooked up to IVs waiting for someone to come get them and wheel them in to their operating room. This turned out to be not only strange but also awkward. Two of the ladies had men sitting by them. My man (which I never say because who says “my man?” I just did and I’m sorry about that) didn’t know he could come with me back there so he was in the waiting area.
It would have been a lot less awkward if he had come with me because here’s the thing, you can’t help but look at the others about to go under the knife. You look at them, then you look away. You wonder why they’re having surgery. You wonder if they’re scared out of their minds like you. You wonder if they ate anything after midnight because you are NOT supposed to do that. You wonder who will take care of them afterward. You wonder what they are thinking about you.
While I was wondering all these things, I overheard the lady across the way say to her husband? Boyfriend? Brother? I heard her say, I know that girl. I’ve seen her at church.
I looked at her, they were both looking at me. I looked away. I did not recognize her. Or him. They started whispering. Is that weird? Was I being rude? Should I have shouted across the room, Hey! Do we go to the same church? Is that what you said? Where do you live? Do you want to come to dinner sometime?
Or should i have just looked at the ceiling? Because that’s what I did. Except when I looked over at them again and they were still whispering and glancing at me. Luckily the doctor came in and said, So I see you are having problems with your BLANK! He said it very loud. I said, uh yeah. And he said, well, let’s give you a little cocktail to get you started and I said, Uh okay. And then I fell asleep and they implanted a monkey’s paw in my stomach so I’d always have good luck.
3. Today my oldest boy came in crying because his younger brother wouldn’t draw Mario with him. His brother yelled that he is no longer drawing Mario because he had a nightmare about him which is totally valid. Older brother was furious.
I said: you can’t MAKE him draw Mario.
He said: Why not? It’s not fair. He’s not being nice.
I said: Well, you can’t make anyone do anything. They get to choose. He gets to choose what he draws.
He said: Then you can’t make me do chores.
I said: Yes I can.
He said: Then why can’t I make him draw Mario?
Then he said: Goodbye.
And then they got in a raging fight.
I know I was supposed to say something wise and profound during this argument but it was the end of the day and I was not prepared.
How does this relate to writing? I’m not sure except I may put this exact conversation in my next book just because I want a redo.
4. This brings me to my final point that has nothing to do with the others but sort of does. Here it goes: This summer so far has not been my favorite.
It’s not been my worst. but also not my favorite. Some of the things have been frustrating for me. And happy. And scary. And funny. And sad. And hard. Very very hard.
A lot of times I don’t feel like i can express what i’m going through or what I’m feeling. HOWEVER, I can always create a character who can do it for me.
I have realized that writing, particularly fiction, is a great opportunity to think, to release, to work things out, to do things i would never really be able to do or say or try or scream in real life. I am grateful to have this release. To have the opportunity to let other people, real people made up by me, explore both physically and emotionally the hard parts of life. And the happy parts. And the scary parts. This is a blessing and even though I resist it many days and weeks and months, I know that it brings me renewal and strength. I think publishing is nothing compared to getting to create and be rejuvenated.
I get to live through my characters and they get to live through me.
P.S. Totally Rad Summer Challenge
Reading: Read a chapter of my Hedgehog Book.
Writing: Finish (start and finish) the copyediting on my book! Yay! Must be done by the end of the month. Can I do it? Write a chapter of my book that never goes away. Start a new book.
Fun: Go on a walk with my husband in the evening. maybe get a sno cone.