Writing prompt: The smell of the ____________ filled the …
The smell of the furnace filled my nostrils as I slowly transitioned from sleep to consciousness. Autumn had been gradually receding in noticeable ways the last few weeks with the approach of winter more and more obvious: bare trees, gray skies, ever increasing Christmas decorations, and, of course, the dropping of the mercury.
Apparently, the thermostat had reached the tipping point during the night because the furnace had been tripped, kicking on after a long, several-month slumber. And as I was aroused from my slumber, the smell of long-settled dust in the piping that ran throughout the house had been stirred and sent out into our home, reminding me, by its distinct aroma, that I was fortunate enough to be warm, cozy, safe, and cared for.
Who’s the Boss?I am fearfully and wonderfully made. All of us are, and every part of every one of us is. Kind of reminds me of a joke …
One day, all the parts of the body were talking about who was most important.
THE BRAIN SAID – “Since I control everything and do all the thinking, I am the most important therefore I should be boss.”
THE FEET SAID – “Since I carry him everywhere he wants to go and get him in position to do what the brain wants, I am the most important.”
THE EYES SAID – “Since I must look out for all of you and tell you where the danger lurks, I an the most important body part.”
THE HANDS SAID – “Since I do all the work and earn all the money to keep the rest of you going, I am the most important.”
Of course, everyone got into the arguments and the heart, lungs, and ears all say the same thing.
Finally, the asshole spoke up and pointed that he was the most important even though the others didn’t know it. All the other laughed and laughed to think of an asshole being boss.
The asshole decided to prove the point and refused to function. Blocked up tight.
Soon the brain was feverish, the eyes crossed and ached, the feet were too weak to walk, the hands hung limply at the sides, and the heart and lungs struggled to keep going.
All pleaded with the asshole to relent and agreed that the asshole was the most important and so it happened.
Moral of the Story: You don’t need a brain to be a Boss——any asshole will do.
About a month ago I got the result of a Cologuard test. It was positive. So my doctor urged me to meet with a gastroenterologist and have a colonoscopy. That occurred this past Friday. Turns out the Cologuard result was a false positive—apparently, they always show up positive once you’ve had polyps, which I’d had 7 years ago.
I wasn’t aware of how much that had been weighing on me until I noticed a marked increase in joy and gratitude, and a marked decrease in crotchetiness. I was even inspired by the multiple pictures I received of my innards, fascinated by the almost Georgia O-Keefe-ness of them. They were beautiful in a weird sort of way. Fearfully and wonderfully made. I texted them to my brother and joked that I might get one of them blown up, framed, and hung on my living room wall. “Disgusting” was his reply. He’s entitled to his opinion, of course. But he’s not the boss of me.
Well, I passed my “big test” by successfully completing a VERY full weekend of activities in Rochester, MN. (Note: This is where the Mayo Clinic is so most people who saw me hobbling around on crutches figured I was a Mayo patient!) But did I ever have to adapt my usual M.O., both for performing and teaching as well as just living life and getting around in general.
Here’s the thing: when you’re on crutches, you can’t carry anything with your hands, and certainly nothing that could spill. I’d learned that the previous two weeks at home. But this was the first time I’d traveled and that meant that while I COULD still wear my backpack I could’t manage a suitcase (or even a duffle bag without throwing myself way off balance).
So I had to rely on others to take me to the airport (bringing my bags down to the car from my 3rd-floor apartment), and airport personnel to get me from the curb to my gate (and to the bathroom and snack shop and through security), and the stewards to put my bags and crutches in the overhead compartments (and to get my backpack down once we’d taken off so I had something to rest my bad leg on), and then folks at the layover airports to get me from one terminal to another, and then my host pastor to shuttle me from door to door throughout the weekend and carry my bags up to my hotel room, and make special accommodations for my teaching and performing (all while seated — a bit of a challenge for me, to say the least!) from a stool with an additional chair to rest my leg on, and making sure the pathway through the chancel was wide enough for crutches and that there was a ramp for the stage at the luncheon after worship and people to pass out handouts … and then all those people at the airports on the way home and the friend who picked me up, detoured to a drive-up ATM so I could make a very necessary deposit, and then carried everything up the stairs to my apartment and made sure I had what I needed before leaving. It was all quite a humbling experience for this independent gal! I literally couldn’t have done it by myself.
The wheelchair pushers in the airports were of particular interest to me. I’d never really noticed them before but there are a LOT of them! (And, as a friend morbidly noted, if we as a country continue our obesity trajectory and cases of diabetes keep increasing and more toes have to be amputated, this may be the one secure job for the future!!) They were wonderful … and the recommended tips echoed this! (I’m really glad I checked online before leaving home because I would not have been prepared with near enough fives and ones — I spent $50 in tips on this trip! But it was worth it.)
As someone who makes a living depending on others to pay me a somewhat subjective amount for services rendered, I was happy to return the favor (especially for the poor lads who got stuck gettng all my stuff — laptop, shoe, crutches, bags, liquids, etc. — through security!).
The surgery last Wednesday went well. I did NOT get nauseous (for which I’m immensely grateful since I don’t “do” throw up!) and I’ve been in very little pain. I only took the prescribed oxycodone for the first 24 hours or so and have just been on Tylenol since, one in the morning and one in the evening (and that’s mostly been preventative). Do you see the two little nozzles? Those aren’t for drugs; they’re a cooling system! I came home from the hospital with a small, 6-pack-sized cooler that had a little pump in it connected to two tubes that attach to these nozzles. I fill the cooler with ice water, plug it in, and cool water circulates around the injured area. How cool (no pun intended) is that? And what will they think up next?!
This obviously isn’t a traditional cast. There is a hard L-shaped splint along the bottom and up the back. There is “cotton batting” inside and around my leg and everything is wrapped up with the Ace bandage. It all goes up so high on my leg because they actually had to take a piece of bone from right beneath my knee to use as a bone graft for my heel fracture. I can barely wiggle my toes but can’t move anything else. The most frustrating thing is not being able to bend my knee. This means I can’t give my poor right leg a break by kneeling on a chair with my left while brushing teeth, washing dishes, etc. Boy am I feelin’ it in my right hip socket!
The big “test” comes next weekend when I’ll fly to the Minneapolis area for a full weekend gig. Thankfully the church has an elevator and I’ve already made arrangements with Delta for an aisle, bulk-head seat on all my flights and a wheelchair reserved at each airport. (If I’m not careful, I might get a little too used to that kind of pampering!) I’m sure I’ll be exhausted afterwards but thankfully I’ll have 4 days once I’m back home with nothing on the schedule except to have my first post-op appointment (June 23). At that point they’ll take off all of these bandages … not sure what they’ll put back on.
Let’s just hope the surgery did what it intended to do!