Wisdom from The Great Bambino.

It's Friday. I was released from the hospital on Tuesday, after being admitted the Saturday before for abdominal pain that we all knew was my gallbladder but couldn't diagnostically prove enough for surgery. Then, the surgeon looked at the CT scan I had done at the end of February when I went in for the same pain, and it turns out I had early appendicitis THEN, and that part of the consistent pain I've been in since then have been attributed to a faulty gallbladder AND appendicitis.

Needless to say, I was very disappointed with my organs.

Even then, a surgical two-fer wouldn't constitute a 10-day hospital stay. But the resulting hematoma, blood loss, 4 unit blood transfusion, pleural effusion in my right lung and consequent "pneumonia", did.

In summation, I was in really bad shape, and my doctor, who I am blessed to say is a good friend of mine, held my hand and called me dear and told me he wouldn't let anything terrible happen. And he kept his promise. I'm home and safe, and while sore, I am whole.

To add insult to injury, the old debt from Toyota put a lein on my bank account while I was hospitalized, laying claim to every penny I own. When I discharged, I had nothing but the small balances on my credit cards, the Safeway gift card given to me for being Employee of the Month for April, and a $20 bill.

Still, I am moving forward. It could be so much worse, as recent circumstances had just proven. And while I naturally felt overwhelmed, I couldn't help but remember what Babe Ruth said: "It's hard to beat someone who never gives up."

 I have had golden adventures in the last 2 months that I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to share with you, dear Reader. The Oyster Festival in Arcata with my friends Kelly and Lauraine (who came to visit me in the hospital, brought me crepes, and made me a mohawk beanie: I love you) was one of the most glorious days since I'd been up here. We were at the ribbon-cutting for a remarkable green building that was senior living/public kitchen/studio space, ate oysters and shrimp tacos, rainier cherries from the farmers market, laughed at the dancing cops and swung our hips with them, ate home-churned ice cream in a giraffe glider.

I went to Eugene, and visited my loving family there. I drove to Sisters to hug my cousins so recently back from their adventures over the last year in Jerusalem, and place my hands on Tamara's swollen belly and silently welcome the newest member of our family to the craziness. I got lost on the way back, winding through an empty mountain pass just opened a week earlier. It was just me, Mt. Washington, the expansive lava beds, and outcroppings of resistant snow, which I didn't hesitate to pull over and play in. Who gets to roll around in snow in June? THIS GIRL, that's who. Fresh berries by the handful from the garden, juicy laughter, long hours with Mackenzie and Iris and movies enough to sate my hunger.

I spent the 4th of July in Crescent City, re-meeting T, someone I met at RPYA a decade ago and is suddenly back in my life as a much-needed presence. We spent the afternoon and evening together, our immediate bond strengthening with every hour, and when she left to go back to Riverside the next day, I felt like a limb was leaving me with her. Suddenly, I considered that maybe all of these failed relationships with men and the deep dissatisfaction I always feel after trying with something new was because my real partner had yet to re-enter my life, and she just had.

Three days later, I was hospitalized.

And now, here we are.

Throughout those 10 days, I was surrounded in a loving coccoon of support from my co-workers, family, friends, and even people who had just seen me in the halls and were worried for me. I was hugged constantly, my hair was petted, my hand was held, and I couldn't have asked for better care.

In conclusion:

I am truly blessed. And I won't ever give up.