I am not making this up, although if I read it in a script I would roll my eyes. It happened last weekend.
The day had arrived…very shortly, I would be reading a poem of mine.
Out loud. To a group of people. Using a microphone. For the first time.
I had been ill, and not taking good care of myself, but I am glad to say I was not trying to talk myself out of going. This reading was going to happen.
Less than an hour before I was due to leave, my spouse–who had been feeling a bit of what he thought was digestive upset–transitioned into severe pain and vomiting.
Now, my marriage is not perfect, but never let it be said I feel no love for him: I did not run off to the poetry reading and leave him writhing in pain. Off to the ER we went.
They took care of him, and found a stone on the scan, and he is getting better.
I am left with a question: Should I search for meaning in this putative accident of timing, or can I let it be?
I am inclined toward the latter. If the universe wants to tell me that sharing my poetry is a bad idea, it’s going to have to do better than this.
Just leave my family out of it, OK?
One thought on “Saved by the Kidney Stone”
Sometimes family members take precedence.