Home from Limbo Land

I’m grateful for my life today.


A life that is generally uncomplicated but that does not let me get so complacent as to forget that things can take a turn when I least expect it, especially and most certainly if I exist complaining, judging, comparing or feeling entitled.


My exercise in humility, or hospital stay, is now done and because there were other unexpected surprises inside the body I inhabit, it was none too soon.  Since I am accustomed to being the steward of my own body, it was a conscious effort to surrender to the hands of others, to allow myself to feel and be vulnerable and let life teach me the lesson I must be needing a reminder of. That is the way it has always been for me, if I get too conceited or smug about anything, there is always something to happen that puts me back in my place, my “place” being one in the same with all others. Equally as vulnerable, equally as human and equally as dependent.  I am reminded that we are our “brother’s keeper”.  It doesn’t matter how much money one has, when it comes to circumstances of the body you just can’t really predict what cards you will be dealt and my pain is no more or no less than the “poorest” person or the “richest” person and from my point of view, we all have the right to health care.


I am reasonably certain that there are few lessons in humility quite as unparalleled as one where complete strangers poke and prod, examine and talk about your private parts. Where doctors, nurses, attendants, interns, and assistants all see your god given stuff without the benefit of a playboy layout ie, in the natural light of day and the unnatural glare of fluorescence, with no makeup, or even cute panties to be vain about. Waking up to find you have been stuffed like a turkey, padded and swaddled like a cocoon is just

so-oh-well, mildly disconcerting and relieving at the same time. Strangers have and did take care of me.


So, again, today, I am humble and grateful and recognize and relearn that I am one person connected to many others. I had a black nurse, a brown nurse, an asian nurse, a young man nurse, several Caucasian nurses, a female doctor, a Latino anesthesiologist, and I am profoundly aware that I am not separate from any of them, we are all part of humanity and we don’t only exist in one country.


When I felt the intense grip of fear well up as they rolled me from my waiting room through the brightly lit hallways after months of deliberation and anticipation, and I thought of Tom Cruise as David Ames (yep I did) singing out in the movie “Vanilla Sky”; “what if god were one of us, just a slob like one of us…” I thought to myself before the fear tears could come, he/she IS one of us and I made the decision that I would put my attention on those serving me. In doing this, I felt my fear disappear, in joking with my caretakers, focusing on something about them, allowing them to shine and so, allowing myself to be nothing and everything I became an integral part of the human experience, in this case a positive experience and now its over and I am home in my bed with the puffy pillows that comfort my weary head and this morning I am allowing  my hub to take care of me, (eek he is about to make breakfast, and I am going to love it, no matter how it turns out ;D).


There is something else I keep thinking of, a dream I had well over a year ago.  In the dream I was taking care of a little girl.  We were in a public bathroom like setting and I was about to help the little girl get dressed for something when a person entered the room and was trying to get at the little girl and I fought him off like a tiger till he was gone. I proceeded to ready the little girl (maybe seven years old) for something, I put a princess like dress on her, pampered and primped and sat her on a chair in front of a dressing table and brushed her hair gently and spoke to her with kind words and said to the girl as I pointed to the mirror, “see, look how beautiful you are,” and when she looked in the mirror I saw that the little girl was myself.  And I guess that the dream was a reminder to be kind to myself just as I would be to someone else.


Ooh I best quit writing, my pain pill is starting to take effect!!


Thanks to friends who sent well wishes, thanks for caring about me.



6 Responses to “Home from Limbo Land”

  1. Luna Says:

    Darling Tricia,

    I found myself so moved by your blog entry, such wisdom and insight  shared, we all can relate to. I am so happy to know you are home and recuperating. I will continue to hold you in my heart and prayers while you regain strength and treat yourself with gentle kindness. I am grateful that you have come through surgery alright. Now rest…and be patient with the healing process.

    love always,


  2. Ektopia Says:

    Welcome home Tricia. Glad you’re back safe and sound.

  3. Patricia Anders Says:


    how can I not love someone who calls me darling 🙂 I sure appreciate your kind and supportive words that you are never short of. XO

  4. Patricia Anders Says:

    Aw hello!

    and thanks so much Reevo! I am very pleased to be home and anxious to get back to work!!

  5. Jeanne Rhea Says:

    I can so relate to all that you have written.  One other thing that dawned on me today after going to the doctor for a horrible sore throat and a cough that is stretching into three weeks—If one has pain, real pain and it just never seems to end, it does not often matter whether the pain is from a life-threatening illness or from a horrible sore throat.  Unless one knows it is a temporary situation, the most important thing is to just stop the pain.

    Glad you are feeling good enough to write!

  6. Patricia Anders Says:

    very true Jeanne, suffering is suffering in all its various forms…Sending healing vibes out to you so that nagging sore throat will get the heck out of you!