Categories
emotion feelings guitars hurt Injuries music Restore/Recover

Under the Knife

It will be the first time and compared to other injuries I think it’s minor. Right after it happened my first reaction was, of course, to look at it. It was at that precise moment that I knew it wasn’t just a scratch.

My wife knew that it required an emergency room visit and I reluctantly agreed. After a lengthy 5 1/2 hour wait I found out exactly how bad it was; it would need the attention of an orthopedic surgeon.

I’m a musician and I play lead and rhythm guitar in a couple of local bands and an injury like mine can cause an undue amount of stress. Not to mention the jitters one might get when they find out they need a CT scan and surgery.

And yet, I keep thinking of how minor it is compared to what others have had to endure. Even when told that I need to be extremely careful with my injury because of a higher threat of infection, due to my age I guess.

Surgery will take place on Wednesday, September 15. If all goes well and I’m able, I will play guitar with my band on the following Saturday at a local eatery. If I can’t play, I at least hope to be there to hear them without me. I’ll consider it a treat to be a listener and will certainly be enjoying a cold New England IPA or two.

The Culprit
The Injured Finger (Shortly after being examined by the hand surgeon)
A New England IPA
Categories
afterlife Death Death and Dying dying feelings God non-fiction The Aging Process writing

Something to say

I find it quite difficult to write or blog with any consistency. So when the WordPress AI prompted me to be reminded once a week I checked “ok.” And today is one week since my last post. I have no idea what I’ll write about until I start writing. Ideas pop into my head periodically throughout the day, maybe they’re reminders that I should stop whatever it is I’m doing and write.

Lately it’s been mortality. I’m guessing that’s just what happens when you arrive at a certain point in time, somewhere around age 65 or so. I suspect it’s all part of this thing called “the aging process.” Most of us can’t know when the process will reach its end, only when it begins – at birth. I guess I understand the process for the most part, it’s actually pretty simple: the process of living. It’s the end of my aging process that is very mysterious. A mystery that cannot be known until my process is over, or starts again.