24 Hours Post-op

My fancy new footwear
  So, here I am almost exactly twenty-four hours after the operation to put a hemi implant into the joint just behind the big toe of my left foot. It's gone quite well, and I'm more mobile today than I was expecting. The road to get here, though, was pretty... interesting.
  My wonderful co-worker and friend Alan kindly volunteered to drive me to surgery yesterday morning, and picked me up at my apartment at 10:00. I was appointed to be at the Antelope Valley Surgery Center at 10:30, and my procedure was to start at 12:00. We got there with about ten minutes to spare, and I told him a nurse would probably be calling him to come back and pick me up in a few hours. He drove off, and I headed inside.
  When I attempted to sign in, though, I was told that I was in the wrong place, and that I probably wanted one of the other buildings in the complex. I tried to call Alan, but he didn't answer, because his phone was on silent.
  I walked out into the freezing wind and made my way down Avenue J, but saw nothing that looked like a surgical center. I turned around and headed the opposite direction up the street, and saw only the main hospital itself. At this point, I decided I'd just call my surgeon's office and see what I could find out.
  After an eternity on hold (during which precious minutes were ticking by), a man finally answered and we figured out that I was supposed to be at the Antelope Valley Surgical INSTITUTE. Center, Institute. Who the bloody Hell would name two different places so similarly? I asked him if it was within walking distance, and he said "No." Knowing that was my only alternative, I told him, "Well, it's going to have to be. Tell them I'm on my way." I hung up the phone and began to jog- on my broken foot.
  I followed the map on my phone, stopping to catch my breath as often as I needed. The wind was howling in my face, and I felt like complete crap from having to fast for the surgery. My head and ears were pounding, my foot was screaming, and I was sweating like a pig.
  About twenty-five minutes later, I made it into the lobby, breathing heavily. The receptionist immediately knew who I was. "Did you run here?" she asked. "Yep," I gasped, "I just wanted to give this foot one more workout before you sliced it open."
  After signing the requisite paperwork, I was admitted in no time, and taken to my hospital bed. The nurse drew the privacy curtain around me, and I got into my gown and hairnet. I couldn't resist snapping this photo:

  Shortly afterward, the nurse ran an IV into my arm, and I waited to be taken into the operating room. It wasn't very long at all until my surgeon came in and gave me the "Pep Talk" they always give patients. It was unneccessary, but appreciated, nonetheless.
  Next was the anesthesiologist, who I was very interested in talking to. Last time I was put under a general, I explained to him, had a very bad outcome. I was terribly sick, and passed out as I was preparing to leave the hospital. I woke up hooked up to an EKG, and it was all a mess. They said my heart was doing odd things, and I continued to be sick for quite some time afterward. He assured me that he wouldn't let that happen, and that I'd have a much easier time. For one, I wouldn't be swallowing copious amounts of blood, as I did in that previous surgery.
  They started me on oxygen then, and apologized if the sedative stung. I never felt it go in. The last thing I remember was the nurse saying "Goodnight."
  When I woke, in recovery, I was incredibly groggy. The nurse kept trying to talk to me, and I found it very difficult to reply. It was as if somebody else was speaking through me. It took a long time for me to come around, and once I did, as I expected, the nausea and vomiting came.
  About twenty minutes later, I was ready to go, and feeling a bit better. Alan was there, instructed by the nurse where the correct location was. I was pushed out in a wheelchair to his car, and stood on my bandaged foot for the first time. It was incredibly painful.
  I was going to bypass the post-op painkillers, but seeing as how I could already feel pain in the recovery room, I decided to try them out. I made sure they didn't give me any opiates, as I didn't want to spend the next couple of days puking. Speaking of which, I puked two more times in Alan's car (and kept apologizing for it) and then a further three more times while he was in CVS picking up my meds and a set of crutches.
  We eventually made it back to my apartment, and I got to put the shiney new crutches to use- that is, until I got to the stairs leading up to my apartment. Fortunately, if I only used the heel of my left foot, the pain wasn't too bad. Alan got me inside, I thanked him, and then, mercifully, I laid down on the couch and took a nap.
  All in all, the nausea was the worst part. The pain today (and in fact in the latter half of the evening last night) is pretty minimal. The drugs aren't having any adverse effects, and I already don't need the crutches to get around. I'd probably still take them if I had to cover a lot of ground somewhere. Here's an x-ray of what my implant would look like: (not my actual foot)

  Twenty-four hours in and I'm already so bored here at home. They want me to stay off this for five to six days, but I'm going back to work after four. Don't know how I'm going to keep myself from going stir crazy in the next three days. You can only watch so many movies and read so much. I need a good project. Model building. I dunno. Something I can do sitting down to occupy my brain. Ideas?

New Year, New...Cartilage?

  I'll be ringing in the new year by having my foot sliced open next Friday, and having a brand-spanking new cartilage implant jammed in behind my toe.
  As I recently discovered, that pain in my foot I had been ignoring for the past two years was, in fact, broken bone and collapsed cartilage. Whoopsie! It pays to go to the doctor, folks- if you have insurance that is. Thank the Lord, I DO have insurance, so I can now have this problem properly remedied.
  On the downside, I'll be off my feet for five to six days (says the doc- I'm betting on more like four), so cabin fever is going to kill me. On the plus side, though, it means I'll have my birthday off! I'll just have to remember to stock up on food and things before my shut-in days begin. I see movie marathons, sleep, and video gaming in my future. Maybe I'll even post some horribly graphic photos of stitches and such on Facebook.
  Anything to keep from boredom. One reason I hate being sick or incapacitated is the boredom. Damn you, boredom. Damn you.

Creative Impulse

  You can't force creativity.
  That's why, when creativity strikes, or something inspires or moves you to create, you have to seize that opportunity and act. People who are less creative and more analyitcal find it difficult to understand creative impulse and how precious it is to an artist.
  I've gone through many, many cycles of creativity, waxing and waning tortorously. I've always enjoyed the few creative jobs I've held, but in a cruel, ironic twist, using your creativity for work typically leaves you empty of inspiration in your own time.
  So, when images like the one above pop into my head, I look at it as an incredible gift. What made me think of this? Who knows. I've been so agitated, for a while now, about the lack of artistic endeavours in my life. I don't really shoot photos anymore, I don't write. I rarely even blog. Not sure where this dry spell is coming from. The worst part is that I have ideas- I just seem to lack the motivation to follow through on them. I need a spark.

Lincoln ain't stinkoln!

  As a man who is neither a student of history or a follower of politics, you would think that Steven Spielberg's "Lincoln" would be the last film I would want to see. Although it IS a very political film, and very much a "talking heads" film, I have to say- I enjoyed it immensely. This is to be a spoiler-free review, so don't worry if you haven't seen it yet.
  For one thing, acclaimed director of photography Janusz Kaminski makes this film's visuals absolutely soar. The photography, lighting, composition is nothing short of brilliant. If he doesn't win the Oscar, I'll eat my hat. I don't often wear a hat, but I'll make an exception in this case. Kaminski has worked with Spielberg many times, including on "Munich," "Saving Private Ryan," and "Schindler's List," all of which were equally beautifully photographed.
  While we're talking about brilliance, let me also praise Daniel Day Lewis, who I think is one of the best actors working today. His Lincoln is absolutely incredible. There's been talk in some circles about the voice being odd, but if you look beyond the modern Lincoln stereotype with the deep voice, and go back to the actual man, you'll find that Lewis absolutely nailed it. He spent an entire year finding this character and perfecting Lincoln's "thousand yard stare" and his regional dialect. He speaks like Lincoln, looks like Lincoln, and moves with Lincoln's tall, stooping gait. Again- Oscar. Nobody else stands a chance.
  The supporting players are fine, too, including Tommy Lee Jones as a biting Thaddeus Stevens, and Sally Field as Mary Todd Lincoln. Joseph Gordon Levitt is great as always as Lincoln's eldest son, Robert. James Spader and his band of miscreants are hilarious, and David Strathairn turns in a solid performance as William Seward.
  As far as historical accuracy goes, I can't say. Often, filmmakers will alter dates or combine several real life characters into one amalgamation in the interests of brevity. There are conspiracy theorists who claim Lincoln didn't really give a damn about slavery, and only wanted to reunite the country because the government was losing money due to most of the nation's seaports (and taxable trade) being in the south. I prefer to go with the version of history that I learned, and the one that's on display here.
  If you are easily bored, or only like movies where lotsa stuff blows up real good, don't go see this film. If you want to get an amazing insight into one of the most volatile periods of our nation's history, and an intimate look at one of our greatest presidents- or you just want to see a very well made film- do go see Lincoln.

Chapters and Destiny

  I like to read every night before I go to sleep. It's a great way to wind down and escape the banalities of real life. Typically, I'm deep into some Stephen King novel, but in between those, I read a variety of things- from nonfiction to movie novelizations to scientific studies. Lately, I've been reading old Star Trek books. There was one in particular, called "Log One," that I had purchased sometime back in the mid 80's. I remember seeing it on the shelf at the bookstore, because these "log books" went all the way up to nine or ten. To my knowledge, I never actually read it. Well, I ran across it again recently and decided to give it a go. I was surprised to find that the original copyright of the book was back in the 70's and that this was a third printing.
  After finishing (and thoroughly enjoying) Log One, I decided to go online and see if the other logs were still in print. I found Log Two online and bought it for the hefty sum of one cent plus $3.00 s/h. What a deal!
  It came in the mail yesterday, and I was happy to see that it was a first print, copyright 1974. This book was printed the year I was born.
  As I looked over the artfully camp cover, I thought about the life of this book. We were born in the same year. I went about the business of growing up, and the book was printed and shipped off to some bookstore somewhere. Somebody bought it, eventually, and had it in their own book collection. Somewhere down the line, it was either sold, or given away, maybe lost somewhere and found by somebody else. Down through thirty eight years, my life went on as the book journeyed to who-knows-where. Ultimately, it ended up in some warehouse where it waited for me to buy it, using a technology that hadn't even been invented when the book was printed. It's just incredible sometimes to think about how things end up in our hands. It's astronomical, all the things that had to line up to make that happen.
  Granted, I have much older books in my collection. I have an Edgar Allen Poe book from the turn of the 20th century. I found it in a very old bookstore in Scotland. Think about where THAT book came from, and how it ended up in my hands. It was printed a couple of decades before the Titanic sailed. I love that.
  Our lives are like that, aren't they? Novels. Stories filled with characters, broken into chapters. Good times and bad. Tragedy and triumph. I saw a great quote on a friend's Facebook page recently that shared that sentiment:

"When people walk away from you, let them go. Your destiny is never tied to anybody who leaves you, and it doesn't mean that they are bad people. It just means that their part in your story is over."

  I believe that quote applies to anything in life, really, not just people. Places we love, experiences we never want to end. Hell, there was once a chocolate mousse in Paris that I didn't ever want to be done with.
  I don't know what really prompted me to write this entry. Just expounding on the intricacies of life, I suppose. They're pretty amazing when you stop to think about them. Just the sheer fact that you're alive- YOU, right now- is a greater odd than any lottery that can ever be drawn.
Enjoy it.

With the Angels

  I'm glad I got to call you Gramma for a time. Rest, sweet lady.

Raiders of the IMAX

  Last weekend, I got to go to the IMAX in Century City to see my favorite movie of all time, "Raiders of the Lost Ark," on the big screen. I can't emphasize what a thrill that was for me. The last time I saw it on anything but a television, I was seven years old. That was 1981, the year the film was released. Let me put that year into perspective for you with a few historical facts. A lot happened that year:

The average cost of a new home was $78,000.

The average yearly income was $21,050.

Ronald Reagan became president.

The Titanic was discovered.

The space shuttle Columbia had its first flight.

Prince Charles and Princess Di married.

The AIDS virus was identified.

Microsoft released MS-DOS.

3M launched "Post-it" notes.

Frequent Flyer miles were introduced by American Airlines.

The term "Internet" was first mentioned.

The first test-tube baby was born.

MTV launched.

  It was a revolutionary movie, and extremely inspirational to me, leading me to decide that I wanted a career in film. It would take me a few more years to sort out whether I wanted to be an actor, director, or writer, but the seeds were firmly planted. I couldn't get enough Indiana Jones. I begged for every toy, comic book, and poster I could find. Of course, I even had the hat and a whip. Since then, I have seen Raiders countless times, and it has never gotten old. I love every fantasticly elaborate set, every action sequence, and every note of John Williams' brilliant score. To this day, it's the high water mark of cinema for me. Seeing it up there on the big screen really took me back to my childhood, and a time where life was filled with far less stresses and concerns.

  What's also cool is that since this screening did so well for Paramount, other older titles will soon be making their way to the big screen again. I already bought tickets to see E.T. The Extraterrestrial on October 3. I love all this nostalgia! I'll have to break out the Reese's Pieces for that one.