Under the Knife

By Abi King | From The Heart

May 04

Get well soon polaroid from Patagonia

“We need you to keep your eyes open so we can see when you’re falling asleep.”

Fine, yes. After all, I’d done this before, from the other side.

“A cocktail of ondansetron and fentanyl. You may feel a little woozy.”

I felt fine. I felt nothing. A little nervous perhaps.

Slam.

I woke up. Lights blazing, limbs not responding, voices, eyelids, eyelashes, sounds. A swarm of blue and swimming surgical green, a bandage, blood, an inescapable, exhausting heaviness, a current that threatened to drag me down, hold me down, keep me…

Down, down, down…

Into darkness.

Self-portrait

[hr]

Last week, I had surgery. Or it may be this week by now.

When I first pressed those pixels to publish all those years ago, I never meant to blog about the practicalities of my personal life. And don’t worry, I’m not about to start now.

I wanted to write about unusual journeys and the experiences I found around the world. Through my eyes, yes, because they are the only eyes I have. And none of us, however hard we try, can see the world as it truly is.

So why am I telling you now?

To explain a little, I suppose.

To explain why I may be a little slow right now. Less available. Less responsive.

If you’re working with me, don’t fear, nay panic. The work will still get done. My commitments will all be kept.

But if you’re approaching me anew or following up with a project that seems to burst out from within you and press so heavy and so hard on the hours of your day…

Hold the phone…and give me just a little time.

Because it doesn’t just finish when the lights come back on, when the voices swim through the darkness and the pain rises up all around. Our bodies, my body, your body, they all need time to heal. To create bone and soft tissue afresh. To resolve the mesh of clot and grow threadlike new vessels where new blood needs to flow.

Thankfully, my body doesn’t ask me to coordinate the ins and outs of that.

But it does just ask that I provide enough rest.

So three cheers for all you well wishers, for all the comfort your kind words provide. You make me feel like this:

Ljubljana Street Art in Slovenia

And for those of you who “don’t get it,” well…

Let’s hope you never have to find out the hard way.

I’ll be back to full throttle in a few weeks; checking in every few days until then.

Thanks for your enthusiasm – and thanks for your patience.

I hope you’re well – and I look forward to getting back on my feet soon!

Abi (2)

PS – Don’t be too confused by articles appearing on this blog and elsewhere around the web, including the hallowed portals of Facebook and Twitter. I’ve written quite a lot of material in advance. And, well, sometimes it doesn’t take much effort to click on pictures on the phone (for that, do check out Pinterest if you haven’t already. Pinterest: the saviour of convalescence!)

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