Directly prior to the Thanksgiving holiday, I found myself in the hospital for an emergency appendectomy. All appendectomies are emergency procedures, because, if infected, you need to make sure to remove this archaic, and useless (me, bitter?) organ before it ruptures and infects everything around it…namely all your intestines and well…nuf said.
My situation was actually pretty serious since it did rupture. I had let the pain go 4 days before realizing what was going on, so by the time I got to the ER I was hurting something terrible. Shortly after the Morphine shot, when the doc told me I would be undergoing surgery to remove the appendix (at this time he did not know it had ruptured) I said, “Well, good, I’m just gonna look at it like your excising that useless Bush Administration from my body, ha ha ha…” Er…
He didn’t really smile, he did look shocked and the nurse, I think, gasped. Of course my dad and husband chuckled, since such outlandish statements should be expected from a feminist obamite like me who studied the way material bodies are affected by political systems. I have mentioned this here before, but let me recap: I believe that bodies develop disease as a form of dissent to political paradigms. “Stress” is one factor that bridges the gap between the “body politik” at large and what are percieved to be the individuated bodies of political subjects. You know, you and me, our flesh and blood and bowels and all that.
All of my evidence is anecdotal, and this is another instance of that. While I know my appendix burst because of anatomical blockages near my colon, I also know those blockages are linked to the martyr like freaky way I have been living under the Bush Administration. Seriously, and the last few months I didn’t sleep, eat, or relax much–as I was fully into my work to oppose a nuclear facility, doing all I could to help with the Obama Campaign and taking care of two young children. People had been saying I didn’t look well, but I didn’t care. My body did though, and it broke. The removal of that appendix was, in essence, the freeing of my corporeality from its resistance mode during 8 years of political catastrophe.
So, I did sort of regret what I said as I contemplated whether the nurse, who now was wheeling me to the OR was a right wing fanatico that, with my life now in her hands, would contemplate ridding the world of yet another crazy lady liberal. Luckily, I made it out of surgery, but only after 2 unexpected additional hours, seeing as how the toxicity of the rupture had spread throughout my system.
Given the severity of the dis-ease and illness I was experiencing, my recovery was really, really uncomfortable. Believe me, I know people go through way worse, but I really can’t quite imagine it. My pain, on Wednesday, was totally unbearable (Not to brag, but just for scale, I had two children at home and that was nothing compared to this). The pain killers made me sick, I couldn’t breathe well and I was attached to 5 different tubes. Plus, I was on two anti-biotics that made me really nauseous. I thought I would die.
My husband came to visit me that night. I could barely bare to look at anything and was suffering from a big sense of depression and I was also afraid. “Hey” he said, “We should watch the Barbara Walters Special tonight–she’s interviewing Michelle and Barack.” Instantly I perked up. “What time?” I mumbled “What?” W…h…a…t.. time” I said with huge effort. “10 pm” he said. That wasn’t good enough! That was two hours away, that seemed like a lifetime!!…” “Mountain time?” I said. Ah Ha! So he looked it up and we only had to wait 20 minutes and I watched the whole interview and I loved it. I laughed and I cried, my pain receded as I watched these two lovely, smart people share parts of their story with one of my favorite interviewers. Barabara Walters asked Obama tough questions too, and I loved seeing the surprise on his face at that. I loved his honesty and comfortability, I loved Michelle’s wit and warmth and willingness to tell it like it is as a woman. And this is our first family. Of course, my memory of this is both dull and vivid, since I watched it in a morphine haze, but I will never forget it.
When it ended I felt bad again, and that lasted a few more days. If I could have, I would have watched it over and over again, because of what it did for my pain. While I would have made it one way or another, the Obama’s really did save my life. And I believe they will help all of us save ours. In any case, based on my analysis, I would conclude that we can look forward to a much healthier embodied state as our nation heals from the useless toxicity of Bush.
