Wednesday, September 15, 2010 —Excuses, take your pick

My apologies to regular readers for the long time away. Lots of excuses. Sometimes it's welcome but unexpected company, sometimes it's just plain procrastination or writer's block and sometimes it's an honest to goodness emergency.

That's what it was Monday morning just before I was going to come in and do a blog entry that I had almost composed in my sleep. I walked to my garage to find a can of paint I had bought for Carlos to paint the old, old wooden outdoor furniture in anticipation of the celebration attendees who may want to sit from time to time. While walking along the side of the garage I tripped on a cement walkway and spun out of control. I landed with the right side of my loose cotton sweater wrapped around the faucet handle of a water pipe. The faucet was above my head by about two feet as I lay on the ground in a state of shock. Probably because of my compromised state it took me almost ten minutes to extricate my vertically elevated inner arm from the faucet. My loose sweater had somehow wrapped itself around the pipe in a kind of vise-grip manner. To get on with the story, I made myself a piece of toast and some tea to take to the ER because we all know how many hours you can spend there.

Carlos was upset with me because I wouldn't let him drive me, but, again, you know how long he'd undoubtedly have to wait..... and I really wanted those chairs to get painted during the morning while he was here. He asked me to raise up my sleeve and that was when I began to realize that I had truly gouged myself. His jaw dropped and he looked like he was going to faint. I still wasn't feeling all that bad, so I insisted that I drive off with my tea and my Kindle. I lucked out with a really good triage nurse who got me into a cubby pretty quickly and they began telling me what they were going to do. First the anesthetic and then the careful irrigation and cleaning and then the sew-up. A lovely young woman doctor took over and we had a good conversation while she practiced her art. I had to return to the ER later in the afternoon because I had bled through the bandages and three different shirts and was getting a little tired of that. The same nurse was still on duty (12 hour shift) when I arrived and she applied a new dressing using a different approach with treated gauze, then wrapping gauze, then elastic wrap, then final taping above and below. Because of the location of the laceration, every time I moved my right arm at all and especially when I had to flex my arm, it wasn't more than a few hours before I was oozing blood through all that gauze. So I walked around with quadrupled paper towels held onto my wounded arm by thick rubber bands. By the time I awakened this morning the whole bandage was completely off of the damaged area .... sort of like an artful, organic kind of textile bracelet hanging just above my wrist.

By yesterday afternoon I received a phone call from Lolli in Fort Bragg who said she had heard from my neighbor to whom I had not said a word, who heard from a friend in San Francisco who had heard from my Canyon daughter in law who had heard from our Kathy that Mama was injured, and would he please go over and see how bad it really was. This is actually just a shaggy dog statement from me describing how much my life has changed since we lost Skip.

Before I launched into my story of the damage I had done to my flesh, I had fully intended to discuss my latest findings regarding the grieving process. The flesh thing has turned out to be so long I'll save the rest for another day. I just want to tell you that I am doing very well .....most of the time. I've decided that grieving is a bit like being hit by a tsunami. First it drains you completely and then, just when you least expect it, it comes roaring back at you. It is a real case of final growing up with a steep learning curve. I know I'm strong, thoroughly engaged, living in a place that I adore and among the most comforting friends and family anyone could ever have. But at some moments, I still can hardly fathom the recent events and my current circumstance. A steep, steep learning curve.

For those who are joining us next week on Sunday the 26th, please email me if you need a map or any other information. We're starting at 2:00 with some words of recollection after which we intend to celebrate Skip's life and comfort each other with music, food (potluck) and good conversation to the end of the day. Much love to all.