Kafka On The Shore
Purchased at Talking Leaves…Books. Read by Lori.
So it looks like I have to have surgery on my elbow. I'll be going under the knife Monday afternoon. Unless I feel worse after the operation than I do now, I should still be able to type, so hopefully there won't be a huge interruption in the writing of the blog.
The gruesome details are as follows: I cracked the left radial head, which is the top of the forearm bone that meets at the elbow joint. The split is about about 2mm wide and the portion of the bone splitting off represents about 40 percent of the head. Apparently, 1mm and 30 percent are the thresholds for surgery.
They intend to close the 2mm gap by one of two means. Either they will insert a screw to fasten bone to bone, or they will press them together and hold them in place with some kind of shield. They will perform the latter if they determine that the screw is so large it will shatter the bone fragment through which it must pass.
I will be awake during the forty-minute operation. My whole arm will be numbed with a local anesthetic. I know I will be tempted to look, but I probably won't for fear of passing out at the sight of my own blood. They say they will want me to begin physical therapy right away.
I have never had surgery before. I don't feel any fear except at the prospect of my long term recovery. I hope this means I will heal without too much permanent damage, otherwise what's the point?
from Kafka On The Shore
Cash isn't the only thing I take from my father's study when I leave home. I take a small, old gold lighter--I like the design and feel of it--and a folding knife with a really sharp blade. Made to skin deer, it has a five-inch blade and a nice heft. Probably something he bought on one of his trips abroad. I also take a sturdy, bright pocket flashlight out of a drawer. Plus sky blue Revo sunglasses to disguise my age.