Next first kiss

A proper bit of writing? Well, I do miss it (to some extent,) though let’s just say there have always been pros and cons and at times, more pros have appeared. By nature then, at times more cons would appear.

A detraction. Five weeks past the release of my nerve from my knee, a year tomorrow from the release of the same nerve, entrapped within the socket of my left leg. Reflecting- so precisely- on my thoughts five weeks after that event the comparison to the present moment could not be more clear.

Ever ask yourself “what was I thinking?” I’ve got a perfect answer for the last year, more or less… at least for the most pressing topics on my mind on any given day. Hindsight as we all know, is already so clear despite the limitation most people seem to impose on it: the continual passing of our own finest memories.

A blessing then, I was overjoyed beyond measure with my first bit of true healing since my incident already then ten months past. Now- well, right now the upswing has already occurred (and much easier now with no more impending surgeries, though many desired…) yet over the last five weeks, I seemed more bitter about it.

A brief discussion with a friend reminding me that I was experiencing healing. I had to be reminded at a point. I took a few weeks off. I had gotten used to me- again. My mile time was getting better and better (even though I was walking less miles per week,) as I pinched out the last bits of life from my then entrapped nerve with every step. The pain was decreasing (I thought, yet really my brain was turning off a part of my brain as my lower neurons failed to deliver their assigned data.)

Then, doctors. You might think they were happy. I would have thought they would be happy- many of the nurses certainly have been. Doctors, not so much. More on this topic later. I’m quite sure one doctor would have been much happy if my healing had occurred a week after his surgery rather than a week before.

Earlier today in a thought about how to compare my pain, I thought I would have to put the last month in the the top five of the most painful months since the incident, well maybe top ten- certainly much ahead of the more recent months. So, might a person guess the effect? The pain scale (or is it the object being measured,) is only a relative comparison to the pain a person has experienced lately.

As much as the world is round and a ship disappears over the horizon, so does the clarity of recollections of even our own history- at best! Not counting any other known issues. Could I remember ever day of my life? How many books do I remember? Dozens, hundreds, thousands? Wait- word for word or just the gist of the narrative? In this case, a natural self interest is sure to aid.

I can choose to remember like a book I read and bring back the pain of the first days full scale. The scale when they don’t ask you for a number. They tell you a number, if you ask. Five days later, the first time I remember being asked if I wanted more pain meds, I said no. They rolled me, it hurt. The next time they asked, I asked how much I could get. I can remember it all, like pages in a book.

Else, I can let that ship sail. However the further that memory goes, the more today hurts. Yesterday, I rode a stationary bicycle for ten minutes, just a hair over one mile. New things hurt. Tomorrow, I have to do it again- that hurts more, already. Time for the ship to come back.

So the pros keep rolling- I even received my first payment from Amazon a week or two ago. It’s 100% official, I am a published and paid author, and comparatively pain free if I read the right pages of my own books. Yet now, two cons have come about (really?) perhaps, I felted conned, and that came about… An un-entrapped nerve begins to feel.

It begins to feel pain. Um.. Thank you. (Yes, thank you!) It begins to feel. Progress has been rapid, depending on how I trick my mind to keep pushing forward each day. Soulless has helped- no matter how decimated my body felt as I tried to let myself melt into my chair, he’s been there ready to ask for one more game of tug. What a month to spend crawling around on the floor.

My mind has opened. My eyes can see all I’ve written in a more clear light: my own self pushed forward each day from my own hopeless enthusiasm. My mind has opened; I spent a day or so and hacked some SQL scripts on part of a project I’d been trying to complete for a year before I’d given up. Now, it was almost like click click done.

Oh- now to write not only with a much greater degree of hindsight yet also finally a proper amount of sight and the requisite amount of foresight (if we are to continue the sight for thought analogy.) Here, let me pause and consider my words well.

I just entered a blank page in the book, the movie will have a montage of sorts- pain control, puppy training. Days I could barely get out of bed and wouldn’t have, or at least not as often, if not for the puppy. To say he kept me moving would be an understatement. I’ve barely written at all the last month- for my classes included, which has me a bit behind now. Oh, well.

I did muster out a paper on movie for English class a week or two ago, and today I wrote something that I like. The story of the assignment I might leave in my biological memories, yet I suppose I wrote this today, so that I could share what I had written early this morning. Three quatrains and a doublet, each ten syllables. I wrote it straight out, just how I like. The assigned topic: a person we love.

Ha, I said: subject yet unknown. Perhaps (and this sounds like someone must have said it before,) there is nothing sweeter than the next first kiss? Ha, I’m no romantic… yet?

Time to rest.

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