Zing dong

...

What a week!

If it weren’t enough to be in more pain than I’d anticipated, there were the added bonuses of my heart crapping out during surgery and my kidneys shutting down after the fact. When I finally got out of bed at the hospital to walk around I had to tote a “Kool Aid piñata” attached to my IV pole. Internal bleeding- but not much to worry about because it’s normal after you’ve lost an organ and had your innards re-arranged. Besides- they’ll fix that this coming week, with a quick, additional surgery (if necessary). The pain is excruciating. I can’t do anything for myself. Even sitting here, typing, is taxing me.

This was my ~12^th surgery that I recall having. I usually go into these things with an “oh well” attitude, because I know that as everything does, this will also pass, and I’ll be better when it’s done. It’s getting harder and harder to sell that to myself as the pain has been intensifying instead of subsiding. (WTF?)

What I miss more than anything right now, is my ability to transcend, to meditate, to openly communicate with the universe. I’m not sure if it’s the narcotics or the pain that are interfering, or if I’m just too weak. Since I couldn’t generate this ethereal state for myself I picked up a book that I had acquired at a sidewalk sale, and read a few pages. The first meditation talked about being still and listening. Okay, ZING! I get it. The last one was about pain. Pain- that ill that infects and drains us, pain that will not heal. Pain, which needs to be accepted, and we must live in spite of. Pain, which we must not hide from, but must let mold us so that we can improve. Sometimes we must be the victims- but only if we do not dwell in the ick of it all; only if we accept these limitations and work with them. Life is a divine gift, in every form.

ZING!