Tag: surgery

I Can’t Believe She Gives It All To Me

And just like that Wednesday has rolled around again, and today is the day I meet with the orthopedic surgeon to determine just what needs to be done to repair my torn left biceps muscle. I am a little nervous, to be honest, and more than a little trepidatious about it. I’ve not had any kind of surgery since having my tonsils out as a child and a potentially cancerous lesion removed in 2007, so I’ve kind of been lucky on that score (I don’t consider tooth extraction–even the wisdom teeth–as surgery; just how my mind works so don’t @ me, okay?). Dr. Google has told me that I’ll need physical therapy, a soft cast, and a sling (not the fun kind) for a while, maybe as much as six months to a year, which is definitely not pleasant or anything I want to happen to me at any time, but if needs be, it needs be, I guess.

At least after today I won’t have to wonder any more.

But my rebooting the week seemed to have done the trick. Yesterday was a good day; I slept really well and was in a very good mood when I came to work. A friend texted me to remind me that it was also my first birthday since Mom died, and so subconsciously I was probably grieving, which was why the energy felt so off Monday (the news of Tiger’s passing didn’t help much in that regard) and it really should have hit me when I got Dad’s note in the mail. It’s funny, I keep trying to tell Dad that it’ll gradually get easier but it really never does, does it? Hell, just typing since Mom died makes my eyes fill. I need to remember to keep being kinder to myself, and not so hard always on myself. After work I ran errands again–much as I hate driving all the way uptown every day, at least when I do there’s a place to park when I get home, and Paul’s expecting something, and I needed to make a little groceries on the way, too–and followed my Monday strategy of showering after emptying the dishwasher and putting my groceries away. I did finish the new draft of “Whim of the Wind” last night–and I have a place to try getting it published now–so I am going to let that sit for a couple of days before digging back into it. I’m glad that I let go of the sentimental attachment to the story since I wrote it back in college; it makes so much more sense to revise it into something different but keeping the same feel and vibe. I don’t think I stuck the landing on the second draft, but I have something to work with now, and that’s terribly important.

I tried working on another story after I finished that revision but alas the fountain had run dry by then. I did pull up both stories I want to get to work on, and maybe after my appointment this afternoon–and errands after that–I’ll be able to sit here and finish both stories tonight. I slept great last night–even better than i had the night before–and actually didn’t wake up until four (then five, then the alarm) which was probably the longest stretch of “straight through” sleep I’ve had in I don’t know how long. It was again miserably hot yesterday, but these last few days haven’t felt quite as hellish as the ones before. Paul was late getting home last night (board meeting) and after I finished writing for the evening, was kind of lost. I did do a load of laundry and another load of dishes, even going so far as to clean and straighten up the kitchen (I also showered when I got home; the twice daily showers seem to be doing the trick–getting things done and sleeping well) before repairing to my easy chair to watch some Youtube. Yesterday evening I revisited some scenes from old soaps, mostly General Hospital and All My Children–I still haven’t accepted that it’s no longer on the air–and I was also thinking about all the actors from soaps we lost to HIV/AIDS back in the day; and how many really gorgeous young men had appeared on the soaps when I used to watch and then just disappeared…which, of course, makes me wonder. (I love that the actor who played Derek Mallory, the police chief on Edge of Night back in the late 70s and early 80s, started in gay porn movies.) Someone really should write about that; and how actors had to remain closeted to have careers until the modern day era where there are only four soaps left, but they often have gay characters and storylines now. (was it Christian McLaughlin who wrote Glamourpuss, about a closeted gay soap star who gets outed, so the show makes his character gay and turns him into the villain?), I remember when Donna Pescow played the lesbian nurse on All My Children back in the day–she wasn’t around long, of course, the occasional queer character rarely lasted for long–but i would love to read a book about the history of queer actors and queer storylines on the daytime soaps–I remember the gay teen storyline on One Life to Live back in the day (Ryan Philippe’s first big break as an actor was playing that gay kid) and remember thinking wow what a difference this storyline would have made to teenaged me back in the day.

Representation matters, people. It really does. And if you’ve never not seen yourself reflected back to you in popular culture, you literally have no idea what it feels like or how moving it is when you finally do.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again later.

Squeeze-Wax

Back to the office for me today, with tomorrow yet again a work-at-home day for one Gregalicious. Yesterday was an interesting one. It’s always strange disrupting your usual work week with a day off, but I slept super great Tuesday night and woke up feeling incredibly well-rested and on top of things. I did a load of dishes and a load of laundry, cleaned the kitchen, did some filing, and had a highly productive chore morning. I went to my doctor’s appointment (more on that later), and ran some errands before getting out of the blistering temperature of another heat advisory into the delightful cool of the Lost Apartment. The doctor visit was okay; we’ve (he’s) come to the conclusion that the issue with my left arm is most likely a torn bicep tendon, which will need surgery to mend. Hurray. Which means since our corporate insurer is dropping us after December 31 and there’s been no word about what’s going to go down with that, I need to have this done before the end of the year. Huzzah even more. So far, that’s dental surgery in September and now arm surgery before the end of the year. But…since the corporate insurance scum company is dropping us, I’m happy to force them to spend more money on us.

Insurance, the biggest scam ever perpetrated on the American people. Every kind and every type: an utter joke and scam to make shareholders profits.

But I am glad it’s going to be looked at and potentially repaired; this staying out of the gym has been horrendous and I hate that I am getting so out of the fit condition I prefer to usually be in. At least we’re saving money on the gym membership; we put mine on pause after I originally injured it. I tried talking Paul into a SPCA run to look at kitties this weekend, as I do not like living in a kitty-free home, but he is going to visit his mom soon and wants to wait until he gets back. I get that–not wanting to go away right after getting a pet–but it also means I won’t have a cat to keep me company while he’s gone. Heavy heaving sigh. But I can also consider our new kitty, when we get him, as a birthday gift. (And I will keep working on him, of that you can be sure.)

I read deeper into Megan Abbott’s brilliant Beware the Woman yesterday, around appointments, errands and chores, and it is deliciously marvelous. As always, reading Megan inspires me to write better myself–the truly great writers always are an inspiration, even as their talent awes me it also inspires–and it gave me some ideas, too, as the best writers always do. I am looking forward to finishing the book this weekend, after which I will move on to S. A. Cosby’s All the Sinners Bleed. I’ll get my grubby paws on a copy of the new Laura Lippman soon enough, and let me tell you, I’ve got some amazing reading ahead of me for the rest of the summer; Eli Cranor, Jordan Harper, Alison Gaylin, Wendy Corsi Staub, and the new Silvia Moreno-Garcia novel, Silver Nitrate, just arrived the other day as well.

I also was asked to moderate a panel at Bouchercon on Saturday afternoon; which brings my panel total to four (the other three are nominee panels, and since I have THREE nominations that means THREE panels; my queer crime writer friends are always telling me I need to shout that from the rooftops, so I am trying to be a little less self-deprecating and trying to take more pride in my accomplishments, and let’s face it, it’s pretty impressive and cool to have those three Anthony nominations. I think S. A. Cosby and I are the only people to be nominated three times in the same year; pretty heady company to be in, quite frankly.) That means I’ll have to prepare and I no longer have Saturday as a free day; but that’s okay. I can sleep in, grab some coffee, and make notes that morning before the panel. That Saturday is going to be one of those days where I’ll have to remember to eat, so I should probably make lunch plans with someone.

I slept well again last night, so deeply I didn’t want to get up this morning, but it’s my last day in the office for the week and I think I’ll survive somehow. I got my errands done yesterday, and didn’t get as much done around the house as I would have liked. I really need to make a project out of the kitchen drawers and cabinets. But it was miserably hot out there and I did get everything done outside the house that needed doing, and now this weekend I may need to make a single grocery/mail run while dropping books off at the library sale; there are at least two, if not three, that are ready to go. I may even get another box down from the attic to go through for book purging. We also watched more of The Crowded Room last night, and if Tom Holland isn’t at least nominated for an Emmy for this, the Emmys will be an utter and complete joke.

And on that note, it’s time for me to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader and I may be back later.