I remember some April 15ths

when I was not feeling quite as good as I do now. of course, it was mostly non-medical malaise...

it took me awhile to get tired last night. I feel like I must have some kind of override that tells me, as long as you might miss something, you don't get to feel tired.

I slept solidly between four and five hours last night, woke up exhausted. people will sometimes say the cause of waking up tired is that they slept too much.

I think instead, I am finally starting to feel normal enough to realize how wiped I am.

but there has been nothing in the surgery stuff that has felt nearly as challenging as the weeks before. I'm playing with actually turning my head...unthinkable five days ago. and sleep last night didn't mean pain...I'm ready to reinvert my perception, so that once again sleep is the best choice whenever I feel tired, and sitting up kind of more an awake thing.

Dr. Nemechek says I need to have a guitar in my hands soon. the stuff I'm used to doing, get used to doing. slowly slowly slowly but...right away.

perhaps he's heard some of the tapes, and understands how much practice I need...

he says, hum. don't sing energetically, but hum. wonder what that set list looks like.

I should be going home late morning, early afternoon. Nemechek says hospitals suck as a place to recover. honestly, this one could be a lot worse. but I'm ready for home.

he's very impressed with my support system..."loved ones" he calls them. it's a surprisingly good term, says just the right thing. but I think of it more connected with memorial services than, say, weddings.

I keep trying to get Dr. Nemechek to say he nailed the operation, that he did really well. today, he recited the litany of cautions he still has...he'll be happy when pathology comes back with the report on the tumor. when I don't get sick for a week, when I have a real sense of what kind of motion, singing, etc is there.

he's totally right. but he rocked that operation.

I haven't needed so much as an aspirin yet.

I don't know how long it will be before I know there's nothing from the hospital in my bloodstream. I may still be under pain relievers from that period.

I feel like I prepaid my recovery in some ways.

I'm thrilled I had days good enough to participate as I did. but it was hard and getting way harder. I expected at least that much discomfort now...but there is nothing for life but to stay open and not fill in the blanks.

the current version of the scar is a doozy, staples and all. I'd say six to 8 inches from my clavicle to my right ear....that may just be what it seemed to Me when I saw it today. I may be wearing closed collar shirts to our outside gigs.

I guess I could change my style...go punk country or metal...and barely have enough body mod cred to get in the door.

I'm told the staples come out next week, though I might ask if I can wait til I've used my tickets to Young Frankenstein...

these essays are all Karen Smart's mother's fault.

her mom sounds like she was really something...til Karen remembers a fairly big sickness, and her mom coming home with a cholostomy bag.

when Karen expressed her sorrow and regret, she remembers her mom telling her, the real tragedy is trying to find shoes and a hat that match.

maybe I lean on humor too much when things are hard. but dammit, that's funny.

Dr. Nemechek may well prescribe some studio work and practices in a couple of weeks, if he's prescribing guitar now.

gotta do what the doc says...

on the other hand, if someone asked me to sign an outpatient form, saying that all of the healing I received in this building was due to their efforts and my body's natural defenses, and no prayers, energy transfers, love, or concern aided in this experience...I would not in good conscience be able to sign. I feel like I got a reduced sentence, changing the points to misdemeanor, and I have to feel that so many people caught the ears of the judge that he gave me a break.

we complain sometimes about our lives. but let the smallest cloud threaten our continuance in them, and perspective comes real fast.

all signs now point to my continuance in the role of me. no two by three inch square in the program saying, the role of Scott Bennett in tonight's drama will be played by Ernie Martinez.

and for that continuance to happen depended on more than Dr. Nemechek, my body, the hospital. it depends literally on everyone who has called, written, read the blog and held off on calling for awhile. Scott isn't Scott without Runaway Express, The ReJuveniles, Lost Alamos, Christy, Ken, Peggy, Bill Brennan, Bob Cannistraro, Keith Hughes, Denise and Kate and Karen and Tom and Kevin at Sweet Fanny Adams, Bonnie, and all of the people who inform my days with blessings.

I am going to love my down time. and I'm bloody well taking it. but I'm not going to be quite as much Scott, even in the hands of my loved ones who are giving me everything during this time.

and even after a small number of hours, I am feeling how dependent I am on all the people to whom it costs money every time I say, well I had this idea...

yours continuing

Scott