Fellow Parkies:
Thanks to all of you who responded to my inquiry about surgery, anesthesia
and PD drugs. I received very helpful information, which I'm testing this
week.
As my way of thanking you, I'm including a short article I wrote today for a
local writers' club newsletter for your amusement. For those of you who
oppose any material appearing in this space except PD-related discussions,
close your eyes for a moment and hit the PAGE DOWN button.
For November issue of Houston Writer
350 words
Why I'm Not Writing?
by Stan Houston
Writers can always find excuses not to write.
"I was kidnapped by aliens from another planet."
"My cat used my computer as a sand box."
"Not tonight, Gateway. I've got a headache."
My excuses? Just count them.
In early August, I ruptured a disk in the lower part of my
spine. On a scale of 1 to 10, the pain registered about 75.
There's excuse #1: Pain prevents prose. Besides, "Ransom"
and "Night Sins-18" premiere tonight on HBO13.
I also have Parkinson's disease. So, for several weeks, I lived
twenty-four hours a day in my Super-Stud All-Reclining
All-Back-and-Butt-Support Lazy-Boy chair. Of course,
I was positioned in front of my Mr.Technology
Monster-Screen Surround-Sound Eight-Speaker Home Theater,
complete with 200-channel satellite dish.
Excuse #2: How you gonna get them to write after they've
seen The Gardening Channel?
In September, my doctors informed me I needed surgery on the
damaged disk as soon as possible. I think my surgeon wanted a new
Lexus as soon as possible.
Excuse #3: Surgery stops stories. Contemplating pain (see
Excuse #1) blocks all creative paths in the brain. Might as well
lean back, stare at the TV and drool all over yourself until your
big day.
After my back surgery, everyone seemed concerned about my
pain. Except me. I had none. That didn't deter the doctors and
nurses. Four hours after the operation, my surgeon's medical
assistant burst into my room and breathlessly announced, "Stan,
we have morphine for you!"
Excuse #4: keyboard the find even can't I. drugs on I'm.
kidding you are? write me?
Now that my back has been repaired, I should have no more
excuses, no self-imposed barriers, no convenient cover-ups to
prevent me from writing. I should vow to spend at least two hours
each day pounding away at those rows of plastic keys below my
monitor, producing page after page of perfect prose for my next
novel.
I should . . . I ought to . . . I must.
Opps, I forgot.
Excuse #5: In November, I'm having brain surgery.
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