As I downed by last advil, I heroically answered the phone.
“Your lab tests are clear, but you need to discuss the results with your gyn.”
But going through the surgery and post op days, not so much.
How do you ask for help?
In my anesthiastic fog I remember my husband saying, “The only thing you are NOT doing….”
“Did you get ME any lunch?”
(to the nurse) “are colonoscopies really necessary…”
Jeez. I went shopping for father’s day the next morning and got the response when I got back, “Did you get me any lunch?”
I so feel like the lucky one, why can’t I ask for help?
Strained myself, doing housework the second day. I did get royally pissed, got sunflowers three days after surgery.
One week after all danger passed.
So let’s turn the page here, this is a blog about writing scripts for heaven sakes.
So I turn our focus to a web page by Roger Avary, entitled, ‘Avary‘. You know, the auteur of Pulp Fiction, etc. or only that. It lists that he made 196 mil on his last endeavor, Beowulf; yeah, but also he includes the charity of helping kids whose parents are incarcerated. Jeez. I jus’ thinks that’s class.
**Note: when I checked the webpage link, I found that in 2008 he was charged with manslaughter, what is with these hollywood “successes.” Changed my tune a bit.**
So, I’m thinking, maybe I should get a heating pad and gift it forward to the next lady that has to get a d & c, cervexoscopy, LEEP and uteral polyp removed.
Maybe I should thank the dr who helped me along — we did bond during the post op appt talking about “Mind Game” i.e. computer game?
And, maybe I should be kinder to the receptionist of his office for, or not, although she neglected to tell me I needed a referral and that one of the office procedures was on my nickel. maybe not.
Thanks for the sunflowers, though I have to hint my way to a gift, telling my husband, “You can buy me flowers.”
;D onward crazy life!
Well, next week, induction into VSF< Virginia Screenwriting Forum> important stuff!
Send somebody some flowers: A link to a BBC recording of Sylvia Plath reading her own poem: Tulips.