We both have headaches.
What a bore! And all of my
ailments feel the need for
their moment in the spotlight.
Hello, says the knee, which I
sprained about month and a
half ago. Oh, shut up, knee!
It’s well on its way to recovery.
Though now there’s the occasional
pop and an all-to-often angle in the
gait or pose or moment in the middle
of a stretch, perhaps in the middle
of the night, when there’s an out
ragious bolt of pain that runs up
and down from the knee that once
it hits my brain has me put out a
really helpless sort of yelp that
actually wants to be the loudest
scream. But then it’s gone, and
I’m back to pretending I’m walking
or sleeping or posing like normal.
And there’s a new incision that’s
just to the left of a nearly 35-year
old slightly smaller but otherwise
mirrored image scar – they both
appear just below my hip. Or,
without knowing where on earth
the hip might be, exactly, let’s
just say they each appear, well,
one slightly below and one slightly
above where I (initially) wrap my
belt around my gut of a morning.
Depending on the season or the
month or just depending, the
edge of those jeans or slacks
might ride up or they might
ride down my body before
finally settling, if settling
does occur. And while
the appendectomy scar
(and it had burst by the
time of the surgery) hasn’t
even the ghost of any pain
left, it remained for me for
years just a conversation
piece. I like scars. The
other incision, on the other
hand, is less than two weeks
old. And the surrounding area
of that one is experiencing a
bit of a renaissance in pain quite
unlike that experienced after my
appendectomy. Am I still not
talking further about it? Perhaps
my reticence gives it all away.
What I can say is that today
I was informed that I am, as
far as can be detected by an
MRI done a week after surgery,
cancer-free. And that’s pretty
straightforward, between you
and me. And just as straight
forwardly something to cele
brate. Which I’m trying to do,
really, I’m trying quite intently,
but truth be told, there’s too
much else to worry about
these days, and not a soul
with which to celebrate, at
least at the moment, and
I’m not counting on there
being any. Is that why
such good news feels oddly
melancholy? Or is it that I’m
just in denial. Well, if you could
only ask me again tomorrow.
