I have my doubts about how this one turned out but the subject matter has been weighing on me since yesterday when an emergency patient came into the animal clinic I work at. She was expanding like the blueberry girl from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
We tapped her like a keg and drained about 4 liters of fluids out over an hour and a half, during which time the vet reviewed her records and explained heart failure to me. I haven’t been able to get out of my head how delicate the whole system of our bodies is. One piece stops working right and everything compounds to come back around and make that one problem worse.
Food for thought: is the system that makes our society so different?
Mixing up my formatting today. Think I may be doing it this was going forward.
Started off the day in one of those nasty funks we all sometimes get into. This poem marked the start of a turning point in my day, written during my lunch break, almost like I was writing it to motivate myself as much as anything else. It worked.
Yesterday’s poem written before a long drive through some yucky weather. Too heavy to be called mist, too light to be called rain. Just wet enough to make the roads fun to drive on and seep into everything.
This morning’s poem brought to you from that “I don’t know where this is coming from” part of my mind. I’m honestly not sure if it’s a form of insight or simply my attempt to process everything that’s going on lately in the world. There just seems to be so much…
My new job is as a veterinarian technician. So far I’m loving it. That said, there are some emotionally hard-hitting moments and patients. There are far more highs than lows, but those lows a little tough to process. Today’s poem is more for the sake of catharsis than anything else.
I’ll allow yesterday’s and the day before’ poems to explain my recent silence.
One definite bright spot amidst all this–I am so glad I was home for this, if for no other reason than because I was able to enjoy a gorgeous waterside sunset with my bride from the comfort of our bedroom. The image heading this post was actually the view from our window.
Several days ago I thought I’d managed to get a very fine cut on the base of my thumb. Then I thought I had a bit of dead skin hanging from it and went to snip it free so the cut wouldn’t widen. It wasn’t a piece of dead skin. It was a swelling. It stung to the touch and I thought it must be an ingrown hair, or very odd, some kind of zit (I’ve never had either on my hand).
A day later it had doubled in size and a poke accidentally burst it. Along with all the nasty that came out was a small brown needle-like thing that might have been a hair, a stinger, or part of a proboscis broken off when some bug took a nibble out of me. The base of my thumb swelled up red, and over the course of the day a vein of redness spread up the length of my arm.
I’ve seen it all taken care of and all that’s left now is a red, waxy pucker at the original bite-site. As gross as this whole process has been it’s also been somewhat fascinating. What exactly was going on inside my body? What bit me? What was left behind? How did my immune system respond?
Whatever the case, I’m pretty sure whatever but me is dead now. Hope I tasted good, you creepy little jerk.
I’ve got a book coming out in a few days. I am both excited and nervous. I put a lot into it, maybe more than anything I’ve done before. It’s winding me in knots. This book is a big risk for me in more ways than one and took me way outside my comfort zone. I’m more invested in its success than anything else I’ve ever written. It’s either going to belly flop into a vat of acid or take off. Here’s hoping it’s got wings.