There’s a rumor that I’m knocking at death’s door and have only a few days to live. Sorry, but I’m not ready to go yet.
I got outside just after sunrise; the sun was ready to greet me. We’re counting down now five days to surgery.
I have to stop half of my medications, courtesy of the anesthesiologist. Pre-surgery exam Monday morning, then clearance from the primary, and then surgery on Wednesday. Our friend Ian McRae is coming for dinner tonight; he’s signed up for a college poetry course in Vermont; my new Leica mirrorless camera is coming this afternoon, and the sun has re-appeared.
The blue sky is breaking out.
This afternoon, I’m going to Bennington to get some chocolates for the podiatric nurses and dinner for tonight.
My spirits are high. Bring it on already. I’m sick of my foot. I am allergic to drama, and the world is full of drama.
Yesterday was crazy busy, I’m unnerved by the dramatic and sorrowful way people are contacting me and talking to me – cocked heads, soft voices, alarmed tones, “Are you okay?”, “how’s your health?” Maybe I look worse than I think.
People are offering to sit with Maria while I’m in surgery, and we have to tell them that Maria will be with me during surgery and it will take a half-hour. I’ll be home for dinner. We’ve got everything in hand. I’ll be in a surgical boot day and night for three weeks, and no shower for the same time.
A relative messaged me that she was proud of me for doing the surgery; she remembered the frightened little boy who dreaded getting needles (what little boy likes to get needles?) I wonder if she knows I have diabetes. I’ve been taking needles myself regularly for years. I can’t say losing a toe is something to be proud of; it’s just something I need to do.
Anything can happen, but I don’t think my life is on the line here, and I am sorry to disappoint anyone – I expect to be working the same day as my surgery, and if I’m dopey, then the next morning. I don’t think I’m at the pray-for-me level yet.
Life is as usual on the farm. Maria is bringing firewood into the shed – in a week or so, we won’t need any wood in the stoves. The Imperious Hens are on the march for new bugs and worms.
Fate and Zinnia: always watching.
Hi Jon and Maria,
I am amazed by the fact that so many people try to meddle with your business. It made me think about the phenomenon of a blog like yours. I never thought about it before, but the effect of reading someone’s personal musings and ‘happenings’ in fact does make you feel like part of their family. And I guess we all know what sometimes happens in families, we stick our noses where they do not belong, even if the intentions are good.
I have an artist’s blog, it is very small and I certainly do not post daily. I am happy to have appr 50 regulars who read my stuff. But the quantity of articles Maria and you produce is a different ball game.
I do feel almost like a good friend and when I see video in particular, it feels a little bit like ‘my’ home as well. In a world where, certainly in cities, people barely share their names with their neighbours, let alone their personal business, following a blog like your is almost like being a peeping Tom! But in a good way… We get to read what’s on your mind, we follow what happens in your life. Me personally, I am in total awe of the work you do with the Army of Good. I know of nobody else who uses their ‘well-known-ness’ for good purposes so consistently.
I recently listened to one of your books in Audio format and it tells the tale of how you got involved in hospice work. And how much it taught you to have a certain detachment for the people you visited with your dog. You had to learn not to try and ‘fix’ them or even share your life experiences with them. All you had to do in many cases was ‘be’ there and let your dog do the work. It was very interesting to listen to the stories.
I think you do not need ‘writerly’ glasses to uphold your status as an author.
And when the gremlins write to you, why even talk about their messages? I would rather hear about your life and thoughts, then read about what nonsensical messages you have received. Silence and ignoring is the worst punishment for the bad apples. All they want, I think, is attention. Withholding that will make them pull their hair out..
In the meantime, I shiver when I think about your operation and I think it is the word ‘amputation’ that causes that. I wish you the very best of luck with this surgery: may it bring the improvement in your life that you are longing for.
Keep writing and sharing. I silently applaud how vulnerable you are willing to be. You make me think, you interest me to new books and philosophies. I don’t always agree with you, but hey, I don’t have to. I can peruse what I like and leave the rest.
Good luck under the knife and good recovery!
Thanks Nicky, I appreciate the message. I mostly don’t talk about the messages, but some are important and need to be talked. Your message is great.
A bump in the road of life! You certainly seem to have the right mindset…to be able to go on walks again would be enough for me too. Best wishes on your surgery!
Thanks Lisa
I think you have been very clear, forthright and knowledgeable about your health and I am inspired by your posts. My husband and I are around your age and also have health ‘issues’ that we manage and control in order to stay in the best health we can for as long as we can. Diet, exercise, yoga, meditation, good health care and great attitudes.
Good luck with the surgery and recovery. I’m sure you will do fine.
Thanks Barbara
Having followed you for many years, my respect for your life choices is at an all time high as well as my admiration for your clear and honest revelation and sharing of them. I wish you only the best next week, *losing* your toe! But in losing your toe…….you will gain SO much. I keep you (and Maria) in my heart …….. and look forward to your well planned recuperation stories and good news!
Susan M
Thanks Susan, it will be exciting,I do think I’ll come out of it better….
Jon, you could quote Mark Twain by telling those concerned folks, “Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.”
🙂
You love being outside so much maybe you could set up a comfortable seat on the porch where you can put your foot up and still see the farm’s beauty ( and take photos)