I Can Hear God Laughing

In some parallel universe, there's a Gitte flat on her back in a hospital bed zonked out on drugs. She’s probably in much pain after the operating deed has been done, but at least she’s firmly set on the long, winding path to recovery.

This in not her story.

Plans just keep coming undone this year. The story of the Gitte who inhabits this reality goes as follows:
Everything was organised with military precision, and so many people went out of their way to wish me luck and help me. My brother picked up the cats, myself and all my baggage with this sign on his car to make the whole event a little cheerier.

The cats sooked all the way to my sister’s, where everything had been set up to take care of their, and my, needs over the next few weeks. They took their sweet time vacating their containers, and were full of self-pity for their "terrible" plight, but were soon checking out their luxury indoor/outdoor home away from home. My sister made a delicious last-meal-before-fasting dinner, we chatted and watched TV, and early next morning she drove me down to catch the train to Melbourne.

I was admitted to the hospital and got a single room with a great view. My brothers dropped in to visit, one bearing a fluffy, pink unicorn. My sister was constantly texting cat updates, and other folk sent mood-boosting messages. Thunderbirds were go!

I was in hospital for two days! One whole day of pre-op preparation– tests galore, pharmaceuticals pumped into my system, cannulae inserted, consults with surgeons (unfortunately, the surgery will involve an extra procedure or two) body readied for the ensuing slicing and dicing - and one whole day of being gowned up, drugged up and psyched up only to have the surgery cancelled late yesterday afternoon! I was scheduled as the fourth operation. The surgeons started at 7.30 in the morning, but there were complications with two of the three ops before mine, and they were still working on operation number three at 4pm, from what I understand, so they had to postpone my fiddly operation until next week. It was the professional thing to do, I do know that, because who wants tired surgeons squeezing you in at the end of a long and complicated day? And I do feel sorry for the two women who spent so many hours on the table – I got to know my fellow patients, and they won’t be feeling well today. But it was immensely frustrating conclusion to a long week of running around nonetheless, and it means I'll have to deal with the pain for another week. Also, it's cut down the amount of time I'd cleared for the recovery afterwards.

So I had a bit of a cry about what a mess it all was, called people (I feel so bad that this rescheduling is putting so many people out), made new plans (I know, I know), had something to eat, packed my hospital bags, flowers and fluffy pink unicorn (who’ll be returning with me next week), and my brother drove me all the way home to my catless house (best to leave them settled at my sister’s), where I ate pizza, drowned my sorrows in a pot of tea, and watched the final four episodes of season one of The Walking Dead. What can you do?

However, the universe did toss me a mood-lifting bone in the shape of an acceptance after I got home last night – my Aussie vampire story, on its eighth foray out into the world, has finally found a home in an upcoming print anthology! Yay. It's my first acceptance for 2012. Phew, I was beginning to think I'd lost my groove. The thing is, I probably wouldn't have checked my emails until next week if I'd had the op, and the editor did want a quick reply as the whether the story was still available so they can finalise the line-up, so if there's a sliver of a silver lining to this whole debacle, the fact that I could respond immediately would be it. Of course, as a writer, a sale is also about the best consolation prize I could get. Anyway, the editor has suggested a tweak that I agree would better the story, which will also give me something to work on over the next few, unexpectedly free days.

Then it’ll be off to hospital. Again.