Return of the Haiku

Not much time to blog these days, but who can't come up with 17 syllables?

Thanksgiving is done
I have a turkey coma
Please pass the Rolaids

The art of practicing medicine

Over the last few weeks, I've been given examples of the amazing work being done by doctors. My sister Jenn has finished five rough rounds of chemotherapy for leukemia, and so far has refused to lose her hair. (It's true, they don't make 'em much more stubborn than my sister Jenn.) Cancer can be such a scary thing, what with the body seeming to turn on itself. But with the help of physicians and treatments, it can be held back or halted altogether. This to me is nothing short of miraculous.

Then there's my niece, Isabel. Born with a hole in her heart (and if she took after me, it would've been in her head,) she had surgery last Thursday to repair it. By Saturday night, she was home. By Monday afternoon, she was holding court like the perfect giggly princess, ready to see visitors. She's not out of the woods yet, but it did my heart good to be able to hold her and squish her and see with my own eyes that her healing has begun.

And so I feel confident that my friend Jon's partner Steve will kick his own cancer to the curb, and that I am faithful Janie's mom's doctors will figure out what's going on with her eye and fix that, too. Because medicine is an art, and good art is something to be appreciated.

The medical answers aren't always what we want. Sometimes we have to say goodbye too soon, sometimes we have to give our cat stool softeners to keep him from getting backed up, and sometimes the old parts need to be replaced. But we keep trying. We keep moving forward, looking for answers and believing anything is possible.

And isn't that the best outlook to have, no matter what?

Solitude

This weekend was the first weekend in a few months with no plans and no company. It was utter bliss, and it caused me to realize something about myself:

I like living alone.

I like waking up when the sun tickles my nose. I like bringing my coffee back to bed. I like lounging around in a flannel shirt all day long. I like heading out to the gym when the mood strikes and coming home whenever I damn well feel like it. I like eating frozen pizza and drinking apple cider and watching DVDs in bed and doing whatever I damn well please whenever I damn well want. I like heading out to a chocolate-tasting party and making future plans, knowing that no one else will be weighing in on what I can/should/will be doing at any given time.

Not that, if the right prince turned up, I wouldn't be flexible ... but it certainly would take a prince.

Am I getting too set in my ways? I don't know, but it works for me.

TGITWE

Back in the days when Ellen Degeneres had a sitcom called Ellen, there was an episode when she introduced the idea of TGITWE. Let's not just thank God for Friday ... thank God it's the weekend!

And this week has been one of those I will gladly put behind me. An entire issue of the monthly magazine (really a fancy newsletter) I edit got blown up and had to be re-written. In less than 24 hours. I DO NOT LIKE TO TAKE WORK HOME, but it had to be done. It's behind me now, and I'm trying not to be bitter, but now I'm behind on every other project on my plate. All that, plus I'm still having issues adjusting to the glasses. Eye strain is not my friend.

I'm just a little complain-y right now, but that's all gonna be over as soon as 4:30 rolls around and it's officially The Weekend.

Tonight, I'm going to a friend's book signing. Tomorrow, scrapbooking with my sister. Sunday, lounging around and spending some time with an old friend. It's the weekend, my friends, and it can't come soon enough.