Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Gift of Time

So I’ve now been with my parents in Pennsylvania for about three weeks, with two more to go, and yes, I did have surgery. I had originally hoped to be up and running in a mere two weeks, but then the surgery wound up being a bigger deal than we expected, and so on… It’s been a very surreal feeling, to not go into work, to just have, well… time. For the first time in years.

At least, that's how it feels this week. The first two weeks went by in a blur of pain and crazy mood swings, which I’ll continue to blame on the painkillers. This week, I’m off the painkillers, my thoughts are clearing up, I’m working a bit from home, and I’m feeling more and more like myself every day.

I know it’s off subject for the No MFA Project, but I never had a major surgery before, and I feel like I’ve learned so much from the experience about both the physical and psychological process of recovery. I learned quickly that small victories – the first time I was able to turn onto my side, the first time I could get my own juice, figuring out how to get out of bed without getting hurt, etc. – were really important. I encouraged myself by thinking that each day I’d tackle a new, small victory. I also learned the importance of constantly reminding myself to be tough, something I should probably do in my every day life, pain or no pain.

What’s on subject for the No MFA Project is that this experience has given me an idea for a new screenplay, one I very loosely outlined a couple days ago. (Gotta admit, this one has a bit of a horror flair, too – do you know how scary a surgery ward is at night? Screaming, rattling chains, the works – but it’s more of a drama than the first script, which I’ve been revising).

Also on subject is the fact I wrote a new short script two days ago. It was a piece I’d wanted to write for a long time: a script that is the exact length of a cross country race, and which, in the space of the race and very little dialogue, sheds light into the lives of the runners: their mindsets, their fears, and their (for better or worse) competitive spirits. (I ran cross country for a number of years, and writing this piece took me back to all those long-ago meets.)

When I first realized I’d have to take off so much more time than originally planned, I panicked. I actually burst into tears. But now, I’m taking the situation for what it can be at its best: a great opportunity to work on my writing.