The Hanging Man says, guess what, you were wrong. And now congratulations you can see things right.
Before the procedure I asked every woman I could find, every woman-of-a-certain-age who had gone through this same deal, I asked what they thought I should do or expect. Barb said, don’t freak out when you still have the feeling of cycles but there’s no bleeding. Susan said her recovery was the best summer of her life, because she basically sat on her deck and everyone left her alone. Carol said don’t rush it. Jan said, do not expect pain. If you expect other-than-pain you might be shocked at the power of that, at how you good you feel. They were all 1000% right. [***NOTE*** Barb and Jan are nurses. Their wisdom was hands-down the most spooky AND surprising AND accurate. I officially declare nurses to be dual citizens, of this world and of some other higher smarter one.]
This convalescence might have been the most fertile (creatively speaking, haha, do you see what I did there) and inspiring retreat of my grownup life.
I call that we stop seeing things like this, medical crises, as “medical crises.” Maybe we call them writing prompts at minimum, rites of passage max. Occasions for loungewear.
The Hanging Man is about an unexpected change in perspective. Know that when you land upright you’ll see old things in a new way and that doesn’t last and it is something to be harvested. Harvest that. Get some new glasses eventually but right now harvest what it is to see things blurry and then clear.
ann rosenquist fee 