Surgery--Again

Roberta, I'm sorta aware of your feelings, you've had some major trauma and that changes things including your thinking processes. I know that after my stroke I often (more often than not) felt to be in a bit of a fog especially with language. It really doesn't matter if you lost 1/10 of 1 % or 50 % there is the sense of loss and you know you don't think as you did before. All the social niceness and reassurances about how brilliant you are don't address you innate feeling of loss. I think that over time the loss becomes less and less but the feelings of loss remain. That's just the way life is.
Bob

Really good news. Blood pressure meds are never good. They're just better than high blood pressure. You will probably feel better without them.

my friend that had brain surgery says it this way.

it's all still up there, but some of it got moved around a little bit.

((B))

I've known you since this all began, Dys, or thereabouts. I think you are way more able to express yourself now than some time ago.. I think you have been smart all along- if fuzzyied - but were stymied in communicating. I've been happy to have you back, even as you are aware of your loss.

Bingo!! Bob, querido, You hit the proverbial nail directly on its proverbial head. A sense of loss. Not quite right. Certainly not stoopid, but not the same. Yes, a sense of loss and a little bewilderment.

I'll probably start a thread on this. I think there's a lot we can all contribute to the topic of intelligence. But what you said is how I'm feeling.

Just got back from dinner with that truly good kid--Thomas. We ate at Pig Heaven, a better-than-average Chinese restaurant in my neighborhood. I walked 11 blocks to get there. Nearly dropped dead. Too much, but I made it. The food was excellent, as was the company. I needed a good laugh. Got several. Had a good conversation too.

Big laugh of the night: I told Thomas that my cousin Howie was coming to visit me next week. I asked Howie to bring his dog along. Then I said, "Oh, and bring your wife, too." I burst out laughing when I realized what I had said. I guess we all know where my priorities are.

Gotta get back to work on the nightmare ms. I'll start the thread and post a link (if I can figure out how--Ha!)

I had a wonderful time too. Thanks, Roberta!

Back from my first art therapy session. Different from art. Helpful as well as fun. Amazing stuff. And I wasn't a pain in the ass--well, no more than usual.

True emotional expression via pastels. Wonderful.

I'm glad to hear that you enjoyed it, Boida. It sounds like fun.

But why would you be a pain in the arse when you're having such a great time, Roberta?

This sounds good! Do tell us more as you attend more sessions.

Glad to, olga. First of all, when I refer to myself as a pain the ass concerning art, it's because in the past I've expended so much time and futile effort in getting things to look right, come out right, be the way I want them to be that I haven't enjoyed myself. I would get frustrated and angry.

Not this time.

First exercise. Pick a color. Not your favorite color, but a color that appeals to you right now. Vibrant purple.

Don't think about drawing something. Just draw. I made a circle. Then I tentatively drew in some spikes coming out of the top of the circle. It kinda looked like a purple sun until I started filling in the spikes. True anger emerged, and the dust chalk flew as the spikes became something more than spikes. I grabbed another shade of purple and filled in any spaces inside and around the spikes. Added spikes.

Then I took bright red. On the other side of the circle, I started drawing what looked like a valence of red. But no. The anger again took over. I was swirling that red like crazy. Filled in everyspace with the red.

I added two purple circles and filled them in. Then I added two red horizontal lines at the top and one horizontal line at the bottom. I put light purple parentheses on either side of the lower horizontal line.

Voila. A self-portrait.

I was stunned. Excited. Amazed. Without consciously thinking about it, I created a face that represented aspects of me. The red at the bottom--my burning throat. The spikes at the top--my brain not working the way I want it to and ooky spikes of hair that won't lie down.

The two vertical lines at the top--wrinkles that appeared in the past year. The one horizontal line--a mouth. And the parentheses. A hint of a smile.

The art therapist (a goil born in the Bronx) asked me why I picked the purple. A strong color. Why? It combines red and blue. Can't get stronger than that. Amazing, enlightening, revealing, and liberating.

Next exercise. She wanted me to relax. No mean feat. Pick out a color that you think of as relaxing. Aqua. Now close your eyes and put chalk to paper in what you think is a relaxing motion. Close my eyes? I'm drawing a picture with my eyes closed? Yup. I started doing it. Gentle swooping motions with the tactile experience of chalk on rough paper. Unbelievably relaxing. I extricated myself from the moment to say that my left side felt left out. I picked another relaxing color--lime green. She gave me a bigger piece of paper. Now, again with my eyes closed, I started making relaxing swooping movements on the paper with both hands. Relaxing beyond words. Almost transporting. Soothing.

A truly wonderful, revealing, and liberating experience. We showed my creations to my therapist. The Bronx lady gave me the pastels and a small pad. Do what I want with them. Show her what I do when I see her again next week.

I felt truly good! (Also had a very good session with my therapist.) Left the hospital feeling, dare I say it, optimistic (more or less).

There you have it. The difference between art (Roberta = pain in the ass) and art therapy (Roberta = liberation).

Very interesting. You have always been a poiple (purple) person in my eyes, Roberta. Can't get much a much stronger & more vibrant colour than that!

I like the "hint of a smile". That made me smile.

This is really interesting. (I always wondered what art therapy was all about.) Obviously very good stuff for you to be doing!

I wish I could actually see your paintings.

S'funny you should say that, Olga. I, too, always think of Roberta as purple. I'm very strongly oriented to colour - and purple has always seemed to be the colour of/for Roberta!

That is wonderful Boida.

Thank you so much for sharing that.

When you re old roberta will you wear purple
with a red hat that doesnt go?

Glad you liked it, Deb. I found it fascinating--and helpful!

Dadpad, I am old, and I've been wearing purple all my life. It's a good color for me (fair skin, almost black hair, green eyes). Don't have much in that color at the moment. (I haven't been shopping in a very long time.)

If I have to wear a hat again (they wanna radiate my brain, and my hair will fall out), I promise to wear a red hat that doesn't match anything, let alone a purple outfit. We aim to please.

They DO? Or IF they do?

They Do!

When I saw the radiation oncologist, he told me that radiation is the best approach to ensuring that the tumor will not return. The neurosurgeons and the internist agree. The decision was put on hold because I was waiting to find out whether the throat cancer was back.

The issue is supposed to be revisited this month. Getting a knot in my stomach just talking about it.

So how's by you?

Well, bloody bugger damn and hell!!!!

I am ok thankee.

Want rain!!!

Hey Goil

How are you?

Did you have art yesterday (is this to be a weekly session)?

I'm listening to boids twitterpating outside the window, which is wide open and the sun is beaming today; they seem to have so much to talk about this morning and I can hear the little river running by...

I got this overwhelming sense of "you"

thinking of you Boida and sending you all my love
x

I'm hanging in/on.

Yes, I had my second art therapy session. A lightbulb moment. I love dem (not as much as boids).

Struggling in my regular sessions. We're dealing with some heavy-duty stuff.

Went to see the pigeons before I went in to the hospital. A robin in the group. Definitely springtime.

I had a couple of scary moments brainwise. Gonna contact the docs and get the MRI scheduled.

Finished the nightmare job. Finished another job. Now I'm workless.

Landlord noodging me for rent. I'll send a check for a partial payment manana.

My cousin Howie, his wife, and dawg came for a visit. Thrilled to see them all. And I was especially gracious. How so? I let them leave with their dog. Ain't I special?

C'est tout.