Last night was the first time in a long time that I felt energetic and hopeful for the future. Why? Because the Palinode has finally received word that he is on a list to have surgery to correct his broken back sometime within the next two months. Between my cancer, subsequent hysterectomy, and now the Palinode's back, it is such a relief to be looking at what will hopefully be the final leg of this freaking marathon of pain and emotional stress.
The Palinode, Pretending To Be Cranially Bulbous
It is a seriously tiring thing to think of little else but these bodies we carry around. Their cells go squamous, bones break, therapies are applied, disks herniate, organs are removed, and time is meted out in three to six hour intervals between pain medications. The painkillers do nothing, though, for the pain of seeing your lover and best friend hobble with a cane in an upright fetal position.
The Cutie Patootiest Non-Couple Of The Night
But last night, at least for me, was about celebrating the coming end of this ridonkulous spate of health woes. I felt downright sunny. I even felt taller. And not just because the Palinode stands five feet tall with his cane these days.
A Belly And A Man
I spent the first part of the evening running from one end of the table to the other taking pictures of everyone. I simply could not sit still. Every time I sat down, I felt the need to jump up and talk to the Palinode, go to the bathroom, start a conversation with someone at the other end of the table, or otherwise engage with just about anything that would engage with me back.
Schmutzie: Hi! Will you engage with me?
Engagee: Hello to you, too! Yes, I will engage you.
Schmutzie: Awesome! We are best friends now. Gotta run!
One Happy Man
We are almost free! I almost want to run out and sign us up for yoga classes and gym memberships and buy shoes for walking long distances together, which we have not done since 2006.
I CAN SEE THAT THINGS ARE POSSIBLE AGAIN, AND I AM SO HAPPY ABOUT THAT THAT I AM YELLING ABOUT IT AT YOU.
THINGS. ARE. POSSIBLE.
This Is What Ack! Looks Like
Last night, I dreamt everything I have watched on television this evening. I swear. It really takes the wind out of prime time television's sails.
The Kids These Days Either Need To Go Back To English Class Or Stop Drinking So Much Draft Beer
When did we arrive home last night? I don't know. Is my stomach trying to make me regret the vat of draft beer that I consumed? Yes. Has this taught me a lesson? Absolutely not.
Wench Nearly Frees A Man Of His Ear
Because I will
do this again, because at some point both the Palinode and I are going to be healthy and
no longer filling prescriptions for Dilaudid and
we will also be people who can have their bed in the bedroom instead of out in the living room where the television, bathroom, and kitchen are more accessible during weeks long, post-surgical recovery periods.
Two Men, Happy And Blurry
Life can be grand.