Saturday, April 25, 2009

Saturday's gains

I'm better today. Or at least I'm more comfortable. There seems to have been a turning point somewhere in the past 24 hours, including a delicious night's sleep---all the way to 6 a.m., which for me is a record. No cats scratching at the door or mewing piteously.

Much of it is the comfort that the new equipment, designed to make it possible to read or watch TV while keeping my head down, has brought me. I do look like I'm awaiting the massage therapist to show up and just marking time with a magazine, but it makes 35 minutes go rather quickly by.

Friend Carol took me to the pet store for a collar with a bell, to be applied to one Maxwelton when he comes in next ($6---he'd better not lose it! though I know he will. NOTE: he came home tonight without it. But I tried.) and to the drugstore for a devilish looking eye patch to keep me from getting a headache from the goofy vision provided by one good eye and one surgified eye.

And I got the new "Precious Ramotswe" book via Amazon. That's a treat and has kept me reading and laughing all morning. I washed my hair and didn't do anything to it and it looks halfway decent. And in the mail, there appeared several new magazines, as we're approaching May.

I had several nice phone calls from people---my brother who, even though he has survived a heart transplant AND hernia surgery in the past 10 months, was impressed by my detached retina; a congregant who is always so appreciative and supportive of my work and concerned for me; another friend who just had her knee replaced and is feeling sisterly toward me; and my lovely doctor, Dr. Nash, the saint of Swedish hospital's eye clinic, who called to make sure I am doing well. What a guy!

It's the first Saturday I've been able to listen non-stop to NPR as well. That's a pleasure I rarely get. And, get this, tonight's canceled Trilogy gig is being replaced by a troupe of friends who will provide (in Trilogy's absence) a full two sets of songs, so that Rockhoppers is supported as well. Dan says they've got the web cam fixed now, so I can actually even listen in, which I really want to do, because Richard is going to sing some of my songs! He has a nice, true voice and I am looking forward to hearing him. I may have to let him take over!

I'm reminded of a poem my mom had written in her little book of hand-copied poems, this one by Edna St. Vincent Millay: PRAYER TO PERSEPHONE

Be to her, Persephone,
all the things I might not be;
Take her head upon your knee.
She that was so proud and wild,
flippant, arrogant and free,
She that had no need of me
is a little lonely child.
Lost in Hell---Persephone,
Take her head upon your knee,
Say to her, "my dear, my dear,
It is not so dreadful here."

Nope, it is not so dreadful here.

6 comments:

kim said...

Oh! I haven't checked back in a while, and here you are in the middle of a surgical adventure.
My best wishes to you for a full and swift recovery!

LinguistFriend said...

The Millay poem reminds me of Sappho. A few years ago I read through in Greek all of the poems of Sappho that are complete enough to make sense of, with a lesbian student (now living in Portland) whom I had helped with the readings in her advanced Greek course. Sappho was popular with the generation of Millay, but does not seem to be well known at this time.

ginj said...

I'm glad that it's not so dreadful there; you've been in my thoughts these past few days.

Lilylou said...

Thanks, Kim and Ginj, I am making a great deal of progress and even enjoying the process----well, sort of.

LF, I haven't read Sappho but I make the connection as you point it out. I've heard that St.V-M was lesbian and of course there are many places in her writing where there is a tinge of same sex love. It's one of the things that makes her poetry so beautiful, that she is willing to say it.

The important line to me, which my mother used to quote frequently and (maybe?) I've learned well, is "my dear my dear, it is not so dreadful here".

uuMomma said...

I've been away from regular internet access so ... a little belatedly, my thoughts are with you. And thank you for sharing the poem.

Lilylou said...

I'm so glad to hear from you, Momma! Hope you're back blogging soon.