Written for This Week’s Writer’s Workshop Prompts hosted by our friend, John Holton. We’re given several topics and asked to write one or two of them. I’ve chosen #3which asks: What’s taking up the most mental space for you right now? Here goes!
Written for Sadje’s What Do You See #303. Some of you have read this, originally written several years ago as I recounted a true story about events experienced by me in the hospital after surgery. The hallucinations were very real and I remember every detail.
Our gracious host, Rochelle, at Friday Fictioneers asks us to use the photo below as inspiration to write creatively in 100 words or less while making every word count. This is my story.
It’s now one month post op. I have spent a lot of time looking out my bedroom window contemplating the healing transformation of my body and the seasonal metamorphosis as we gently slip from summer into autumn. I had been facing physical limitations as I aged; they have now been compounded by my back surgery. On bad days I curse myself for agreeing to this procedure but I know it was the right choice. Getting back on my feet is taking longer than I anticipated. Like the brittle tree branches that come with autumn, my bones are not what they once were. But now I have a chance to walk among the fallen crimson and golden leaves instead of simply watching them drop from the trees and for that I’m grateful. I am better today than I was two weeks ago and in two more weeks I’ll be better than I am today. It’s a process.
warm burnished tones of autumn as days grow short the earth prepares for new life
Author’s Note: As most of you know, I had back surgery on August 22. Recuperation is much tougher than I thought or expected. I have no idea if I’ll ever be the same. What I do know is I’m not as bad as I was three weeks ago and in another three weeks I’ll be better than I am today. Thanks, D, for helping me realize that. ♡
The Sopranos, Episode 2.09. A post-surgery Christopher Moltisanti frantically pumps his morphine drip.
Those were my thoughts at 4AM after waking up in agony; my 8-Hour Tylenol had worn off two hours early, alerting the pain timepiece in my brain.
Clearly the Tylenol isn’t cutting it, but due to federal guidelines and crackdowns, a doctor’s ability to prescribe necessary painkillers has been seriously restricted and people like me living in the US are getting screwed.