Life Among the Never-Winged

Once upon a time I was writing a book called, "Just Another Love Letter", about angels behaving badly. Now I just quietly ask myself each day, "What the hell am I doing?"

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Location: The Rocky Mountain Empire, United States

My friends always knew I was going to hell. My only hope is that God likes good jokes and bad redheads.

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  • Tuesday, January 02, 2007

    Slightly Dead

    Who Knows? - Marvin Hill

    Just got back from the hospital, and all systems are go for surgery next Monday.

    I was fine with that, before today. But now I'm nervous too. When the surgery was initially scheduled, I was actually looking forward to it, if you can believe that.

    See, the thing I fear the most is the oblivion that may or may not follow death. Going into the dark under anesthesia, well, it feels like a dress rehearsal. My heart will be monitored. I won't be breathing on my own. That's...slightly dead...isn't it?

    I've been thinking about it, trying to understand my own mixed excitement and fear. And I think it is this. I will be placed into the hands of the thing I dread – for safekeeping – and then pulled back out again, like a rabbit from a hat.

    There is an erotic component to it, I'll not deny. But isn't that the natural reaction to death? Fuck or be lost forever. Nature's life insurance policy.

    Anyway, I have a little hole in my arm where the phlebot found an unscarred patch of vein. I have my paperwork, I have the continuing reassurance that it's Dr. S. who's performing the procedure (even the pre-admission RN's eyes glazed over for a minute when she read his name, and we exchanged that little smile. She was under his care too before he went strictly into infertility. And to pull your mind back out of the gutter I put it into, he's very professional, and at the same time very warm and caring Makes a girl feel safe).

    So. My mom gets here next Saturday. And I might be in a little trouble with her, if something doesn't happen the way it should. I'll tell you about it next time. I think you'll laugh. I did, just before the overwhelming guilt kicked in...

    19 people left me a love letter:

    Blogger Bud wrote in a love letter...

    This is one of the only times in life I consider denial to be useful and necessary. I've been under many times and I JUST DON'T THINK ABOUT THAT SHIT. Your spirit is far too strong to check out on us any time soon, my friend. Love you lots.

    11:49 AM, January 02, 2007  
    Blogger meno wrote in a love letter...

    Nancy, i'll be thinking about you and wishing you luck and good pain meds.

    11:51 AM, January 02, 2007  
    Anonymous Anonymous wrote in a love letter...

    That's why anesthesiologists make the big money. I always think of it as a nice long, controlled nap. Your mind will be at peace. No worries!

    I am still laughing about it Pants! Don't feel guilty ;) you did the right thing!

    I am still having trouble logging in to Blogger!

    2:56 PM, January 02, 2007  
    Blogger Stucco wrote in a love letter...

    So you go under the ether and what? You are in a medically induced visit to purgatory? Fine, dust off a spot for me while you are there in case I am judged to be less of a prick than I think. Nah- who's kidding who? I'll be in Hell. See? This whole conversation is ridiculous- we're talking afterlife and shit, when we SHOULD be talking about the wonderous and vulgar insides of a girlies body. I think I should print up some T-Shirts that say "God loves you, and REALLY thinks you should get laid and relax about stuff"

    Damn skippy!

    3:21 PM, January 02, 2007  
    Blogger amusing wrote in a love letter...

    Oh, put yourself in a 1960s mindset and pretend you are doing experimental pharmacology.... (That said, I know a bit how the nerves go..I was okay but the jitters set in when the nurse gave me pills, then came back to check, then came back to put the iv in, then came back to check....How serious IS this, I began to wonder?)

    And did you turn your mom's toilet paper roll around? Is that what you're feeling guilty about? Meno, just look what you've started!

    3:28 PM, January 02, 2007  
    Blogger Scott from Oregon wrote in a love letter...

    I had some dental work done where they put me under. I kept waking up and trying to rip the devices from my mouth.

    "Holy Shit!" was what I remember the anas-whats-his-name saying and then nothing, nada. He got tired of fooling around...

    Going under IS NOTHING LIKE BEING DEAD. Take my word for it.

    One is infinately better than the other.

    I am sorry you are sick in any way except your head, but am happy you have a warm and kind and competant doctor.

    Make a rule that no recording devices are allowed into your room after surgery (you will say things you would never want repeated-- think Linda Blair and Jesus and shit) and apologize before hand to those you might actually say something horrific to.

    Other than that, just enjoy the whole doting thing.

    Hugs from way over here.


    9:33 PM, January 02, 2007  
    Blogger Leesa wrote in a love letter...

    I have never had surgery, but from what I have heard, some people just go to sleep and come out fine. Except for the pain meds that they start popping. And then get addicted to, and, er, I mean, good luck with the surgery.


    8:22 AM, January 03, 2007  
    Anonymous clowncar wrote in a love letter...

    Our thoughts are with you. I can see why you felt relieved at first - you've been living with this for a long time!

    And our curiosity is aroused about the whole Mom/guilt thing. Did you steal her identity and are now using it as an alter ego as you visit satanic bondage puppy-sacrifice log cabin Republican sites and send them donations?

    10:28 AM, January 03, 2007  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    lol... thanks for the warm thoughts, Leesa! How ya been?

    Scott, I say horrific things with or without anethesia. Just ask anyone who knows me. lol...I can well imagine the damage you'd do. Thanks for the hugs. :-)

    I know, Amusing. The last time, I lay there on the gurney thinking, 'Crap. So this is how it feels to be old and helpless. Shoot me.' And that was _before_ anything happened.
    Oh, and, um,I think it was a litle worse than turning the TP around... I'm working on it...

    "a medically induced visit to purgatory" You know, I can work with that, Stucco.
    "the wonderous and vulgar insides of a girlies body" What? I gave you black pearls. What more do you want? I feel like Mick Jagger with the whole 'plunge a knife in my heart, spill blood all over the stage, would it be enough for your teenage lust'...oh. Wait. Yeah. We're talking about YOU. Heh.

    A nap. I WISH I could think of it as a nap. :-) I'm working on the funny story...

    Thanks, Meno! :-) Ever try Vicadin? Now way I'm taking Percocet again.

    Aw, Bud, don't make me cry! Thanks, hon. *hug*

    11:01 AM, January 03, 2007  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    Hey, Clowncar, you snuck in there! Thanks for the thoughts. And yes; I have stolen her ID to visit satanic bondage puppy-sacrifice log cabin Republican sites and send them donations. You know me all too well, don't you?

    No, it's worse. I think.

    11:21 AM, January 03, 2007  
    Blogger Maggie wrote in a love letter...

    I understand the nerves. For me, the coming to after anaesthesia is what gets me all nervy and bunged up. But you'll be fine. I've declared this the year of fun and that means that you are going to have a much needed deep sleep, awake refreshed and all will be well. I have that much magic, I'm sure of it!

    2:06 PM, January 03, 2007  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    Thanks, Maggie! How are you at pulling rabbits out of hats? ;-)

    10:45 PM, January 03, 2007  
    Anonymous d-man wrote in a love letter...

    Slightly dead is still mostly alive.
    What would Pearl Jam say?

    4:01 AM, January 04, 2007  
    Blogger Popeye wrote in a love letter...

    I've dated the slightly dead. Not too fun. As opposed to the undead, they don't eat your brain but they do wack you on the noggin a bit. . .
    I'm with bud. Go with denial.

    7:12 AM, January 04, 2007  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    Pearl Jam would say:
    Sailing on my every step.
    Inching off of the earth.
    Is magnified by the things I've done.
    The thing that I've become...
    I'm a dead man walking...

    That's what happens when you ask a human jukebox (and Peal Jam fan) what a band would say. :-)

    I know someday you'll have a beautiful life
    I know you'll be a star
    in somebody else's sky
    why, why, why
    why can't it be
    why can't it be mine?

    Have sadder words ever been sung? But I digress.

    Dating the slightly dead, never fun, especially when they start eyeing your head.
    Go with DENIAL? Come ON, gimmie something inspirational! That's what you do. :-)

    10:11 AM, January 04, 2007  
    Blogger Popeye wrote in a love letter...

    Uh. . . Roses are red, violets are blue, surgery's a hoot and they give you drugs, too?

    1:29 PM, January 04, 2007  
    Blogger Lisa wrote in a love letter...


    Good luck to you, good luck!

    To blave...

    7:50 PM, January 04, 2007  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    lol...that's more lie it, Popeye! ;-)

    Wuv! Twoo wuv... Thanks, Lisa! :-)

    9:21 PM, January 04, 2007  
    Blogger Irrelephant wrote in a love letter...

    I feel like I've missed so much during my self-induced anger management failure!

    Aah...I haven't blaved in forever.

    6:10 PM, January 05, 2007  

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