So here I am, hanging out in the living room of the MidCentury Mondohaus, rather than my traditional spot in the den downstairs, because of that downstairs part. Since yesterday morning, I’ve been managing the pain with extra strength Tylenol, the sort of things infantry call “light fighter candy.” I’m spending nights in the room where the Spawn stays when she’s here, because that bed is easier for me to enter and exit — it’s a mattress height issue. I had the bandage/dressing removed around lunchtime, and while it looks better than I anticipated, two dozen staples are still two dozen staples, and I’m going to spare y’all the visual. Shot from the proper angle, it looks rather like an Elven inscription, or the logo for a Norwegian metal band. Should make for a nifty scar, though.
Physical therapy has been upbeat — they say I’m doing well, in part because I’m a constant fidgeter, and as a drummer, my right foot is usually going all the time anyway. There’s significant tightness in the quad and hamstring, and the thigh feels rather like when some other kid would knuckle punch your bicep in what was called a “frog” for the way the struck muscle would leap up from swelling, cartoon style.
The pain level is about where it frequently was pre-op, but this version should eventually go away. Likewise, my mobility is a little sketchy — sometimes the walker is a hindrance, sometimes a help — but again, we expect it to improve in the coming weeks. So I find myself feeling simultaneously more and less crippled than I was before. (Crippled is a word with a long and honored tradition among my people. Some years ago, the Spawn told me that before we taught her about MS, she thought my mom’s ailment was something called “Crippled,” because that was how we all talked about it. Likewise, Mom’s informal counseling for new MS people was called “Cripnet.” So spare me any efforts to euphemize my terminology.)
Throughout all this, Mrs. M has kept everything in balance (sometimes physically) — providing genuinely necessary help while encouraging me to do more things for myself. This is despite my not always being the best patient; I’m very cautious by nature, and reluctant to move off the easy setting. But here we are, so let’s continue, shall we?
***
Maybe it’s been the meds or the general assault on the system, but my attention span has been even lousier than usual since Thursday. I would be remiss, however, if I didn’t belatedly note that the surgery took place on would have been Dad’s eighty-first birthday. He endured a number of surgeries in his own time, from the three colon resections, going from colon to semicolon, from there to emdash, and finally to comma; to a rotator cuff repair and some work on his circle of Willis. As we in the family noted, though, Dad at 80% was better to have on your side than a typical person at 120%. He was a good guy, and while I miss him, he provides considerable inspiration under the current circumstances. I’m glad I knew him — I wish you could have too.
***
I mentioned being slightly involved in the search for a new men’s basketball coach. That search was completed when we hired the candidate who showed up while I was getting carved. At least I’ve got a visible excuse for missing the meeting. Of course he may have taken the gig specifically because he didn’t encounter me, in which case it may have worked to the school’s advantage. Either way, I look forward to seeing how things go this season, from my customary midcourt seat.
***
I’ll wrap this one up with a bit of a 60s oddity, I may have run it by you before, but if I have, blame it on the abovementioned fuzzy headedness. Most garage rock devotees would likely agree that “A Public Execution” by Mouse & the Traps was probably the all-time greatest straight-faced Dylan ripoff. But there were also some pretty good Zimmerspoofs in the era, such as Simon & Garfunkel’s “Simple Desultory Philippic“, Canadian Race Marbles’s “Like a Dribbling Fram” and this one, from British actor and comedian Chris Sandford. I particularly like the aspect of the pop star’s manufacturer considering things like a political agenda as well. Anyway, hope you dig it:
See you soon!
Professor Mondo 