A week before my surgery, I had a consult with my anaesthesiologist. When I pointed out that he seemed more concerned about this project than my surgeon, he gave me the reason for his gravity.
"Anaesthesia," he said, "is the fine art of almost, but not quite, killing you. I'd rather like to make sure we bring you back."
Chastened, I did what he told me. On the day, a little valium loosened me up. Some *very* happy liquid started pumping into a vein in the back of my hand. A nice young lady put a rubber mask over my face. The air blowing into the mask began to taste medicinal and I went away.
That was a week ago. I'm mending nicely, no complaints. Thing is, the guy who came out of the anaesthetic isn't quite the same as the guy who went under.
Maybe it's the lovely, lovely meds I'm on. Or the promise of actually being pain free once this wound heals. Or some kind of mystical, near-death thing (I certainly felt MIGHTY strange after I came back around). Don't know, don't care. All I can say is, I feel like a sludgy old hard drive that's been reformatted. Faster startup, faster functioning, a new lease on life.
Anyway, this new guy still likes writing and drawing and all the big major things, but there are differences, lots of little differences. Differences I can't explain: The thought of sardines is no longer appetizing. The book I was reading before the operation was no longer interesting. I've had a strange compulsion to put lots of Led Zeppelin on my iPod.
Little differences. And yeah, I'm enjoying this slightly altered new version. The biggest thing I've noticed is that I'm clear and active, effective in a way I haven't been for at least a year. maybe two.
Anyway, to that end, I'll be cleaning house on this blog-- sweeping out the old and unused, adding in the awesome but long-neglected. And I might just look around and see if I can find a new look for this blog, too....
It's good to be back, y'all. :-)