I vaguely recall a scene in The Shining where someone is attempting to call for help on the radio and the connection gets cut. Even more cloudy are memories of movies — or dreams perhaps — where someone is desperately attempting to make radio contact to no avail, the connection being too weak or fading from barely audible to dead fuzz. Whatever the source of these memories, they produce a sense of fear and distress in me that I’m at loss to explain.
Last night I tried to call my wife in Mexico from here in New York. The connection was terrible, and I could just make out that she was having a hard time and missing me, etc. I tried to call her back seven or eight times, but each time the connection got worse. I could not understand anything she was saying, her voice fuzzy and cutting in and out something terrible. From what little I could make out, the phone situation was only serving to further my wife’s sense of upset. As for myself, I felt like jumping out a window. The sense of frustration and helplessness was almost unbearable.
I hate this whole “being apart from the woman I love” deal. But staring down at my swollen, bruised, sewn up knee, I know there’s nothing I can do about it right now. By all accounts, I seem to be doing well at the six day post-op mark. I was off pain meds by day three and I reached the one week rehab goals by day four. Yesterday and today have been tough, though. My pain increased so much (presumably from all the exercises I’m doing) that I needed to pop a pain pill last night at 4am in order to get some sleep. Presently I’m in a fair bit of pain and feeling sick and tired of being disabled. I just want to be next to my wife.
Being at home has been nice in some ways, but I’m totally out of the groove I was in while in Mexico. Reading, writing, meditation practice, Spanish lessons, guitar playing — these things are all on the back burner while I focus on rehab and getting through the painful periods of the day. One week from now I should be out of the woods and better able to focus on deeper pursuits, better able to establish that sense of presence and connection which has been driving the bus lately.
Shit. The pain is getting too much and I’ll have to sign off for the time being. The connection is getting fuzzy, breaking up, fading out…
Bob,
Sorry to hear about your situation. You’re stronger than I, I’d be throwing a code yellow tantrum. We mention you often on the “island,” on a particularly rough night Debbie and I deliberated for 20 minutes over how Bob would handle the situation and considered making braclets that read “What would Bob do?” But its been a great journey so far. Thanks again for the help and good word, its been stretching and rewarding.
Boshe,
Hang in there man! In just a little while things will be as they should be. The lines may have been down but you guys are connected where it counts. I bet the doc gave you some good stuff for your pain. I know 18 people that are jealous right now. You’re in my thoughts.
Larry,
You’re a good man. Merry Christmas.
Ryan,
Glad to hear you’re finding the job rewarding, although when you said “stretching” I couldn’t help picturing two patients pulling at you like a human wishbone. The kids are lucky to have you there. Stick with “what Ryan would do” and you’ll be fine.
–Bob