Hayter’s article for Dec 7, 2022
“Writing under the
influence of pain meds”
Today’s training session at our house did not come as a surprise to me. Kay warned me a month ago that she was going to invite the girls over to show ‘em how to make jewelry for Christmas gift-giving.
I didn’t mind at all. I checked the girls ahead of time and found them to be harmless. That can be said of most of Kay’s friends. The reason I gave in so easily to the gathering was that I knew I wouldn’t be here when the girls arrived.
The plan was for Brad and me to play racquetball and then go grab lunch somewhere. After that, we would go to his house and do some target practice with his air rifle. Brad has a big backyard that runs down to a lake, where he set up some small targets. The targets are small in size and far away in distance. No worry. Brad’s rifle is state-of-the-art. – Beg pardon? No. In fact, no one knows why the word “art” was placed at the end of “state of the”.
But you can forget that because Brad and I didn’t meat up. I mean “meet” up. My spelling isn’t all that good when I’ve got good health. Right now, I’m in pain. Four days ago, the kidney stones that I’ve been carrying around for a few years, became more apparent to me. Tomorrow I’m having one of ‘em crushed by sound waves. Yep, that’s the plan.
This is my third lithotripsy. My second one was not all that successful. It crushed half of the stone but left a shard that got trapped in my “out” tube. You can’t use sound waves to crush a stone that’s stuck in a narrow outlet. The doc had to use a pair of small grabbers to go in after it. Any tool with “grabber” in its name, doesn’t travel well in a narrow outlet.
Could the same thing happen during tomorrow’s procedure? My new urologist practically laughed at the possibility. At least, I think that’s what he was laughing at.
But none of that does me a bit of good today. At this moment, seven ladies are having a great time not six feet away from my study. The women are members of a grief share group that has met each week for the last few months. Their last meeting was last week.
Most of the girls lost a husband. Kay lost her kid-brother, Tracy, last year. For the one final gathering, Kay invited everyone to our house, so she could show them how to make jewelry for the Holidays. From what I’m hearing they’re either having a blast or they’re wrestling.
I feel a need to check on things, so I’ll probably be gone for about an hour. What? Ah, something sweet? Okay, I’ll see if I can swipe the plate of cinnamon rolls. -- Back in a bit.
Three hours later. -- Well, that was a
little longer than I planned. I blame it on the nap. I entered the room, I was
walking in a stoop. My last pain pill caught up with me, so I was less than
stable. It’s been my experience that kidney stones can cause you to bend over
while walking.
After the nap, I was right as rain. Which reminds me, if the word “art” is so versatile, why didn’t they replace “right as rain” with “right as art”? Neither sound appropriate. – That was my meds talking.
Back on topic, I wish you could’ve seen some of the jewelry work those women did. Kay is either a good jewelry-making teacher, or the ladies already knew how to make jewelry and just came over for the pleasant company. The Holidays are, without a doubt, a tough time for grieving spouses, parents, and kiddos.
As they prepared to leave, I gave each of our guests a copy of my “Christmas Storybook Stories” book. I read two of the stories to ‘em just to perk them up a bit. One story was the one about little Evie getting jokingly arrested on the night before Christmas. The other was about the time seven-year-old David Weller had to play Linus in a High School Christmas play. I won’t give much away, but I will say that both kids were great.
All of the ladies seemed to like the
stories. Either that or they didn’t want to break the author’s heart. They were
obviously a state-of-the-heart audience. It was a fun time. Even as sick as I
am, I enjoyed it
One last thing. A few minutes ago, I got a
call from a nurse telling me that my arrival time had changed from 8:00 a.m. to
5:30 a.m. I don’t know if I can trust my doctor to sound-blast my kidney that
early in the morning.
(BTW: If in need of a Christmas gift, you can find my book of stories by keying in Christmas Storybook Stories Mark Hayter – Also, my novel can be found by keying in Summer of ’76 Mark Hayter. – I’m only advertising my books this way because I’m heavily medicated.
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