it’s a beautiful day (in the hospital)
This spring, I went to the hospital for some big-time surgery. When I awoke and learned that I didn’t have cancer – as my doctor thought I did (yee ha) – the recovery, even with several bumps in the road, became a great opportunity to practice turning up the volume on joy.
Getting up and walking around the day after having my belly sliced was a requirement for healing, but it wasn’t an easy thing. Somehow, re-writing the lyrics to Diana Ross’ I’m Coming Out and singing them each time I did (I’m getting … up. I’m inching off the bed, shufflin’ cross the floor … ) helped. Eating the pudding they served with lunch did too. (Hospital food is notoriously bad, but pudding is almost always good.)
Hospital Fun
A few days after being discharged, I wound in the emergency room with a high fever/infection. My sister went with me, and as we waited for tests, and then for the results (dragging on until the wee hours of the morning) she took photos on her cell phone commemorating the adventure. One of the residents looked in on us as we were giggling and snapping photos saying: You are far too upbeat for someone with a 102 fever. I replied: Doc, I don’t have cancer; this is nothing.
Later, waiting for an MRI on a gurney in a hallway, I heard U2 pumping out of a radiologists’ office: It’s a beautiful day … don’t let it get away, and I bobbed my head in a makeshift dance. An attendant gave me a quizzical look as he came to wheel me into the room. Dancing? he laughed. How can you resist this song? I replied. He slowed down, listened and said, Yeah, I guess it is a beautiful day.
Even though I wound up having to be admitted to the hospital for three more days to fight the infection, friends brought magazines, I listened to plenty of great music on my iPod, wrote out my gratitude in my journal… and ate plenty of pudding.
While I’m sure it would’ve been a whole lot harder to be joyful if the surgery had gone another way, or if the docs didn’t get to the bottom of the infection quickly, still, with this experience, I saw clearly that when the going gets tough, choosing to be goofy, upbeat and joy-filled really can be the sugar that makes the medicine go down.
( … now, don’t let it get away, this beautiful day …)
About Deb Cooperman
Deb Cooperman is a meaning maker, "writing evangelist,” arts marketer, and a drag queen trapped in the body of a woman. (and a non-denominational wedding celebrant in her spare time ...) Deb has been keeping a journal since she was 11 years old when her most fervent musings centered on whether Davy Jones or Paul McCartney was cuter. These days, a writing practice is the glue that keeps her life together and she spreads the word about it to most anyone who will listen. She also has savant-like skills for recalling lyrics to pop music from the 60s and 70s. Just try to stump her. debcooperman.com
Comments
One Response to “it’s a beautiful day (in the hospital)”Trackbacks
Check out what others are saying about this post...[...] couple posts back, I wrote about how goofiness and a playful attitude helped me survive a pretty intense health challen…. Compared to that, moving is small potatoes, [...]