recovery – Hey, Look! A Writer Fellow!

In March, I cheekily posted about some exciting picture book news that I would reveal on this blog SOON. My hope was to drum up a little excitement in The Bloggyverse by not tipping my hand too early.

I’ll let the post sit for a few weeks, I reasoned, Then I will reveal the Big News. Woo!

My body, however, didn’t agree with this schedule.

On the same week I was gonna reveal The Big News, my neck cinched up in blinding pain. I started shaking uncontrollably. Then my newly-christened artificial ankle decided to stop artificial ankling; in an instant, I wasn’t able to walk anymore.

These symptoms warranted an immediate trip to the hospital, where I learned that I had a bacterial infection in my bloodstream that had designs on a bunch of my body parts.

The doctor’s counterattacks were aggressive—sort of a “destroy the village to save it” type deal. I am so very grateful for their efforts, but being the village in this metaphor really sucked.

I was in the hospital for two weeks. My memories of that time only reveal themselves in a series of foggy, unreliable vignettes:

I remember taking drugs that made me cripplingly claustrophobic; my trip to the MRI was particularly eventful.
I remember my orthopedic surgeon stripping my ankle for parts like an inner city abandoned car.
And I remember the friendly glowing, pulsating cobwebs that jellyfished around the room just out of my curious reach. (Apparently, I hallucinated a lot.)

According to a veterinarian friend of mine. What I had was serious. “If you were a horse,” he told me, “I would’ve put you down.”

Fortunately, I am not a horse. Even more fortunately, my psycho friend is not my doctor.

That brings us to today. I’m still recovering. I can’t walk yet, but I’m getting replacement parts installed in my ankle soon. I still need to take intravenous antibiotics three times a day. And I haven’t slept for more than three consecutive hours since Palm Sunday.

So yes, I’m getting better, but bleah.

Anyhoo…

Here’s the The Big News I promised way back in March: Sarah Gives Thanks, my picture book that’s been out of print for more than six years, is getting a paperback edition.

Woo.

I know, the tone of my announcement is a bit less giddy than it should be, but cut me some slack. Remember, if I was a horse, this post would’ve been an In Memoriam.

I’ll get giddier soon, I promise.

As I continue to recover, I’ll get more info out there about the book and the happy circumstances that helped persuade my publisher, Albert Whitman & Co., to give this title a new lease on life. It’s a good story, and I’ll tell it to you soon.

Jesus, at least I hope so.

Is it September already?

Where have I been?

Well, let’s just say 2024 has been a year of distractions. More distractions, apparently, than I’m capable of handling. Today, lemme tell you about The Big Distraction That Has Affected Everything.

For most of this year I’ve been recovering from ankle replacement surgery. Or, rather, I’ve been recovering from ankle replacement surgery and the surgery that came before the ankle replacement surgery. The first surgery was necessary because my ankle was so messed up, doctors had to fix the ankle before they could throw it away and put in a new one in. I didn’t even know this kind of pre-surgery surgery was a thing. But it is! And it sucks!

I have a reputation for being accident prone, but I didn’t need the new ankle because of a self-inflicted injury. My ankle was always messed up. I’ve had a few surgeries before this one (the first was way back 1985) so this is not my first rodeo.

That said, the 2024 procedures have been especially crummy.

Surgery number one required a recovery time of 11 weeks, during which I was on crutches. I don’t find moving around on crutches to be difficult, but if you are an introvert, like me, I don’t recommend ever leaving the house. Those aluminum sticks serve as a Stranger Conversational Beacon. And it’s awful.

“Hey, what happened to you?” strangers would ask.

I must have answered that question four jillion times.

And then there were the folks who just yelled jokes at me.

“That’ll teach ya ta upset your wife!”

“Whatever you did, don’t do it no more!”

“Ain’t tapdancin’ any time soon, eh?”

Ha-HAAA! Hilaaaaarious!

These jokes were exclusively uttered by old men. I don’t know why old men need to pipe up with these one-liners so often, but, by God, they are always ready for action.

Many years ago, when Ellen and I were on our honeymoon, she slammed her head against the low ceiling of a tour van. It was quite a wallop. It was obviously painful. There were tears in Ellen’s eyes. But none of those context clues stopped the old guy in front of us from cheerfully announcing, “Ooh, that’s gotta hurt!”

“Shut your mouth or I’ll murder you,” I replied.

So, once upon a time, I threatened an old man’s life. I also write for children. I am a man of many layers.

But I digress.

The second operation was The Big One. Judging by the resulting scars, I’m guessing that the surgeon opened me up with a fireman’s axe. The aftermath was so gross, my son, Alex, insisted—then demanded—that I not show the post-op photos on my blog.

My boy has good instincts about such matters, so please enjoy this photo of my foot pixilated within an inch of its life.

Long story short, I’ve been hobbling around since March, first on crutches, then on one crutch, and, now, a cane. Thank goodness Ellen and Alex have been so willing and eager to help me throughout my long, painful, and persistent gimpy period.

I’m in PT and am getting better, but it’s been a long road that has sapped me of my motivation to do much of anything, including promote my upcoming picture book. But that’s a post for another day. 🙂

Tag: recovery

Oh, Yes, That’s Right, I Have News

Oh, Hi! It’s Been a Rough Year.