Post-Op Euphoria

Surgery complete!
(A one handed journal entry)

Many an undaunted Valkyrie has held my fate this past week. God bless em all! 

5:45am  - Wake to the sound of my mobile phone alarm. Get dressed sit quietly on the end of my bed... Thank the almighty for the taste of air.

6:30am - My friend and all-round good guy Graham pulls up outside in the dark... He's my ride to the hospital. He cracks a few jokes, reminds me I'm gonna be sore when I wake and drops me at the door of the hospital with a good luck handshake and a smile. "Call me when you're ready to go home!"

7:00am - Admission processing with a bunch of other day surgery  patients... Stand on the scale, answer the questions, wait... How long? Who knows how long we'll be waiting? I'm told it could be all day.
I look around at the other patients. No one screaming or crying... everyone is fairly comfortable. I settle in for a long day. How did I feel this morning? ...A little bit shit actually! It's two weeks since the accident and my hand is beginning to resemble a bruised limp claw of a freshly killed chicken! Twisted, shrunken and useless! The pain had radiated from the wrist up my arm to my elbow and shoulder... "Errrrgh" 

7:30am - Called into the surgery ward for pre-op processing. Filled out paperwork, answered questions, gowned up... I don't mind the open backed hospital gowns even if the do leave the ass exposed but I felt a bit like Mardi Gras queen wearing those see through knickers! Nurse came back to inform me of the procedure once I managed to get the full kit on... (Of course with a bung hand I couldn't get the back done up but who the hell really cares about nudity in a hospital...right?) So the deal is, she says:
"You're on the emergency list for day surgery. There's a bunch of other patients on the list, you're about 6th. Some of them are serious and could take a long time, you might not be seen until tonight. Oh and if there's an emergency liver transplant day surgery will be canceled." 
"Errr.... OK." Say I, hoping that I can be treated without costing some poor beggar a liver...

8:30am -  Anesthesiologist drops by to double check my health, allergies etc... she explains the process and tells me I am now first on the list... five minutes later I'm being wheeled into theatre. Smoothly and gently the nurse slides another hollow metallic shaft through the skin and into a tributary to my heart... a mask over my mouth and nose she let the fluid flow... "Breathe deeply..." Said the nurse. My eyes wide oped I play at resisting sleep... I smell the rich chemical sleeping potion. Breathing fully, extending the abdomen holding for a second, fully exhaling, then repeating... fully conscious... I feel a queer ridiculous smile stretch across my face breaking the seal on the gas mask....

11:15am - Levitating over coral reefs in a sailing boat on a crystal sea, The Mainsail is full (actually sail looked more like a hot air balloon...Red and Yellow), we're on a close reach, gliding narrowly between the deep water and the shore...  (Colours! I thought dreams were black and white?!). First mate reclining luxuriously on the deck with a sparkling mineralwater and fruit juice pressed to her lips...(It's my wife of course!)
"Daaaavid......Daaaavid....CaN yooou hEar MEeeee...me?"  The Island starts to fade.... waves turn to foam... palm trees evaporate... girl... disapears like a genie back into her bottle.....
"David WAKE UP...." Something's not right!
"What the F#*!" Someone is calling me! I clutch at the remains of paradise as the last grains of sand slip through my fingers... sea wisps into a vapor and then gone... I hear my name again... I think I'm somewhere else.....
"David can you hear me?" Oh... I realize I am being woken up.... I'm in hospital... 'Did I miss the operation?' **Pain throbs through my left hand**  'Nope... I must have slept right through it!'
I respond to the voice.... "Yes... I can hear you, I'm wake..."

11:30am - They bring me a glass of water, then a coffee and sandwich... I sit quietly on the edge of my bed... The dream gone but the warm happy feeling remains... I feel a strange sense of compassion and affection for everyone... I want to hug my surgeons, nurses and everyone... Of course I don't see any of them after the operation and Hospital staff rarely have time for human interactions with patients. Probably not a good idea anyway, since my gown has been removed and all I'm wearing is my see through paper panties! Soon I am given permission to get dressed, I do so clumsily and sit quietly on the edge of my bed until I am released.

12:00pm - My poor mum turns up on the ward to spring me from hospital. I'm out! It's only midday and it's all over!

Came home to blue flowers... maybe this is the unreality?

 
Dad drove us home where I have spent the rest of the day in some kind of drug induced euphoria! I have a fair bit of pain in my hand now but no anxiety, no restlessness. It's now 9pm and I haven't looked longingly out the window once in the whole day... I've made a few phone calls to close friends I'd forgotten to appreciate due to my various distracted longings... What has happened to me? I feel content! What a strange feeling this is! How long it's been since I was here...

A parcel arrived today... mail order hamper from my darlings in Darwin... Byron Bay coffee, Siena Panforte cake from Trentham Tucker and a bunch of other treats to share! Instinct tells me this is dangerous territory. Just a couple of days ago I was massively depressed now I am elated... Who knows what tomorrow will bring.


 

Distant rumblings... calling through a dimly lit tunnel

A month or so passes without a word.

Too many things going on, I had nothing to say about it but I wanted to save this video somewhere I can find it again so I'll post a bit to fill you in on the month past... what I can recall...

 Just a quick explanation about the video... A year or so ago I listened to the three audio books by Jed McKenna. In the Book Spiritually Incorrect Enlightenment, McKenna presents a pretty wild hypothesis about the book Moby Dick. The book had been sitting on my bookshelf for a couple of years, discarded barely touched from the University library, and had procrastinated about reading it.  Anyway about a month or so ago I started reading it and, with my experience of the story already heavily influenced by the mythical teacher McKenna I decided to accompany the book by listening to Spiritually Incorrect... again. Again it has blown me away!

Moby Dick is considered one of the greatest American books ever written and according to McKenna nobody really gets it. There are a plethora of descriptions of the book and explanations of the story but bugger all that gives any acknowledgement of McKenna's description of the story, which I reckon nails it! Why? Maybe it's just too bloody scary for most folks to consider. 

Coincidentally I recently turned the calendar on my wall over to April, two weeks after the fact, and discover the cryptic text 'callmeIshmae...'. The calendar is an artistic combination of sketches and words or some pages just a jumble of letters which come together to make an image. This one is of a guy (the Artist Kris) swimming in the sea and a giant octopus (with six tentacles, my kids have pointed out) the swimmer is sketched but the sea and the creature (the Muse) are made of a thread of letters...  I glanced at the image and the opening lines of the book Moby-Dick. "Call me Ishmael" leapt out at me.

MELVILL'S  Transformation

And what of the month that's passed?

Well back in March there was a major meeting at my work with all the big players. My old boss came back to town a little dismayed by the state of the organization... particularly that part he left in my hands. It's a part of the world that focuses on the metaphysical but requires considerable effort to prevent the ethereal aspirations of it's members from plunging the practical devices of money, property and various other required resources into a horrendous deficit. The fulfillment of the collective mission and dreams can occasionally be confused by personal ambitions. Anyway the whole arena is bizarre to me; convoluted and prone to all kinds of misinterpretation and mischief. We had a chat, it got a bit heated and I may have upset him by laughing at the absurdity of his expectations. Felt pretty good to be free of any sense of responsibility for materializing the ridiculous expectations of deluded power addicts.

The chain broke on my long bike as I was riding home from work. Bike's been sitting out the back for at least three weeks, I finally fixed it this morning and adjusted the gears and once again I'm happy with my bike. 

About three weeks ago I booked two tickets to Bali and back for me and one of the kids. Booked them on a whim with no regard for carbon emissions or environmental impact...  Just booked them because they were extremely cheep and I've gotta go! I'll reconcile my conscience later. Maybe my Greenie friends can help me rationalize when they get back from climate change talks in Europe or Melbourne or wherever they happen to be this week. ;)

A couple of weeks ago I made an urgent trip to Melbourne to visit my mum. She had some stomach problems and it sounded serious. I booked a flight and flew down there on the same day I heard of her illness. Got off the plane at 6:30 am at Tullamarine and walked 12 km through farmland and across small creeks and the Maribynong River valley.
It was magic to just walk. I had a single carry on bag with an improvised strap, a pair of shorts, t-shirt and thongs and a print out of directions from Google maps to guide me. The air was cool and I felt so free just wandering along roads that nobody ever walks. I passed a taxi depot with 100s of cabs, dilapidated farms on land set aside for the next freeway or factory outlet, stands remnant woodland, barely a blur of green to drivers but amazing pockets of nature to me on foot. I passed a mist covered dam with ducks, it was probably full of yabbies, if I had time I could have scored a feed. I saw a yellow rubber duck in the middle of a cow paddock, fog emitted from my nostrils and mouth as I walked, the sky was becoming light, the air was cool I walked comfortably without a bead of sweat. magpies swooped and watched me from their positions on a single power line in otherwise empty fields.

As I crossed the Maribyrnong I discovered a couple of large carp which had been caught and left to dry, getting closer to suburban Keillor I passed a strawberry farm, further on there were tomato crops full of ripe fruit ready to pick... I was tempted. By the time I arrived at my sister's I felt calm and content. My ankles were sore, I'm out of shape, but I seriously considered walking the next 25 km to my parents place on the other side of town.

Walking to my sister's place I listened to the audio CD of Spiritual Warfare. It is a kind of selfish, self indulgent trip listening to Jed McKenna. I suppose it's Nihilism but I don't really know anything about that so I can't say for sure. At times like these people will usually turn to their faith. Faith Works, no doubt about it. But somehow I am comfortable contemplating absolute nothingness! Somehow contemplation of absolute annihilation of the Ego and all it's jingle jangle attachments sets me at ease in times of stress. It's bleak but it's OK. As I walked I focused on my breathing. I walked and breathed and appreciated the novelty of being on the road/path alone, no one to tell me go this way or that way, no one to tell me No, you can't.

I felt right about going down there. Before I arrived mum had been admitted into hospital, while I was there she had a couple of days of tests, two days after I left she spent 10 hours on the operating table! Bowel Cancer! One week ago we had no idea! There's not much more that can be said about it really.

When I got back to Darwin I was exhausted and had a cold. I lay down on the tiles in the bedroom and rested for two whole days. Thinking of mum's illness I remembered the Chi'Kung I used to do. I thought to myself  it would do her and Dad wonders... I started that deep diaphragm breathing and continued for two whole days, off and on. I got up occasionally to eat or stretch my legs but that was about it. Two days passed, I woke up on Monday morning and went to work. I could have stayed there on the floor breathing for the rest of the week. I felt centered, unhurried, not perturbed by anything. Mum's operation took place while I was lying on the floor (meditating?) my mind blank.

  

A whole bunch of weird stuff has happened lately, mostly too weird to tell. Including having a couple of bikes stolen from the back yard by punk kids... All it amounts to though is that life is changing. I'm not sure what into so I guess I'll just try to breath on it.