Home again

I am home from the hospital after five days. The short version of what was wrong with me is that I had e.coli living in my blood stream and my old friend the Hickman catheter, which is with me no longer. In its place is something called a Quentin catheter. For whom are these little tubes named? I want to know...

The Quentin catheter lives on my neck roughly half way between my chin and my collarbone on the right side; two small tubes extend from it like antennae, and I may arrange to have a curse put on the surgeon who installed it, since apparently there was another, slightly less obtrusive way to accomplish the same goal. It's not like he asked me to make a choice and I said "Why yes, I'd like to look like a freak. I had just been thinking that I didn't look freaky enough."

While I was in the hospital, I read a couple of books. A Prayer for Owen Meany, by John Irving; and Up in the Old Hotel, by Joseph Mitchell. The Irving is Ellen's favorite novel. When she brought it to me, she claimed that it changed her life; as I read, I kept feeling that I must be missing something. I will call and ask her about that soon, because I really wanted to know what I was missing. I couldn't bring myself to like any of the characters, especially not Owen. He seemed like the kind of kid I would have dismissed out of hand and that made me feel like Lisa Simpson saying "Mom, everybody makes fun of the Popli kids, even me!"

Anyway, I found Owen Meany to be a very well drawn character, but he never became a person to me. For me, the story never transcended the structure of the novel; though I admit that the structure is very good.

The Mitchell is brilliant, period. The stories, which come from real life, originally ran in the New Yorker in the 30s and 40s; they paint a picture of a New York that isn't, any more. I am very glad that there was a Joseph Mitchell to see it for the rest of us, and a New Yorker to give him a place to spout.

My reaction to these books is interesting because of the people from whom they came. I have more in common with Ellen than Rob, I think, but I vastly preferred the book he brought me. Interesting...

~~~~~

It is hot and muggy, but I am glad to be home. I missed Lola terribly, and I think I even missed the summer weather.

before - after