Rebirthday

On my actual birthday, it is confirmed by the insurance company and the clinic that my surgery will take place June third and my total cost will be just a few thousand dollars instead of sixty. Out of the midlife comes the opportunity for rebirth.

In a state of shock after eighteen months of action and inaction, the reality beats my heart so fast. Fear of the recovery pain and final results (they only get one shot to fix this) slam somber thoughts back and forth. The enlightened vision of a smoothly flowing pee sweetens everything.

I will be at Boston’s Lahey Clinic (in Burlington, Mass actually) under the care of the doctor who developed the procedure of taking tissue from my cheek to rebuild the slender, delicate tube that is my urethra currently torn and scared. If all goes well, I should expect to be under anesthesia for ten hours and stay five days in the hospital down there before coming home.

Instead of losing my catheter, the other one will be reinserted, so waking up will feel much like the original accident only without a cast on my wrist. After two weeks, the Foley Cath will be pulled and by early July, if all has gone well, after another trip to Boston, I should be tubeless, my belly free and clear, hopefully without a second button.

They tell me not to expect to be able to do much at all in June, be prepared to move in fits and spurts as energy allows in July, and remember to take it easy in August. In all that time, I should not carry more than ten pounds which is not even my briefcase or guitar in its case.

With this vision of the summer ahead, an urgency has taken over my aspect. With a strong belief in the mind/body connection, I have to wonder if I have done the emotional work to ensure the physical healing.

At the time, I was convinced this was no accident. For thirty years, wishing I was writing, I had been racing through construction projects to finance the growth of two families. Often a struggle and rarely time to properly breathe, at my wits end to start over once again, it seemed like I just fell off to give myself a good solid rest. Comforted under warm blankets and caring hearts, I could finally let go and just be.

Compulsively focused on doing for others, I have learned to listen to my own body and take care of myself. Resting when tired, bursting forward when able, using gravity to ski behind my monkeys (not so skattered anymore) instead of leading the way, walking around the soccer field instead of running on it, my sights have been lowered, but I am far more appreciative of the beauty right in front of me.

I write and sing to my heart's content.

Some times I am able to dispel the intensity of the literal blow to my manhood with loving thoughts that the Universe provided a much needed energetic re-direction. Most of the time, the symbolism that I can orgasm but not ejaculate is just too perfect to ignore.

Root and second chakra issues seem no less clear to me than when my sacral region was so shocked, yet somehow there is a calmness, a certainty that has settled in, a resolve to pay attention to the heart most especially. Trust in myself and others in life, trust in the process unfolding strengthens a faith I had only mouthed previously, not owned and sung from the sacred belly.

Having approached this procedure once already a year ago, I see a difference in the man who then limped forward with swagger but did not fully embrace the inner healing, who whimpered about his losses and tribulations without fully taking responsibility. Perhaps still in shock, definitely in a surreal place of emotional suspension, absorbed in the physical inconvenience of the wound, the time in between has moved me beyond much of that. Closer introspection, experiments in love, and re-shaping the way I work have all strengthened my resolve and cemented my commitment to going forward.

The result is a function of my own determination. This time I am ready. Having grown to live nearly normally with a tube and bag attached, I am at last ready to be rid of both, to stand free, straight and tall, heart fully open, to live and love again, a man among men.

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