On Being Grounded

As you might guess, I have my upcoming surgery on my mind.

Not the boss of me. (image via wikimedia)

I’m not terribly concerned about the actual surgery. I understand what is going to happen. The reasons for the surgery and the expected results are clear. Everything is going to be fine.

It is even kind of nice that I’ll get a few weeks away from work. That hasn’t happened since I was fifteen. There will be no alarm clock bossing me around. I’ll have three weeks to write.

Becoming pain-free. Having free time. Time to see if I can actually do what I dream about doing with words. What’s not to like?

I Can’t Go Out And Play

After my two days in the hospital, I’ll go home. I will stay there. And stay. And stay. I will stay home for three weeks. Unable to leave. Unable to drive. Not allowed to ride in a car. I’ll be grounded. I’ll be on house arrest. I can go anywhere I can walk. There aren’t many places I can go on foot from my house.

The Omawari-son will be home for the holidays just before my surgery. There will be no Frisbee golf with him. No lunch at Lupie’s. No lunch at Lupie’s is big. I love going there to hear about his world while I have a bowl of their fantastic chili.

Sure, I’ll be able to get out of the house a little. I can go for walks. The doctor wants me up and around. So do I. So I will walk the neighborhood. My beard will be growing in.ย  People won’t recognize me. Someone will call the police about a suspicious character in the community.

I won’t mind that at all. I like that my neighbors are looking out for each other. I’ll probably know the police officer that stops me. It’s just that I will want to go and ring doorbells after the police leave and say “hi, it’s me. I live down the block.ย  I was your kid’s t-ball coach. Remember when your son was in band in high school, the guy that ran the parent meetings? That was me. I’m not a vagrant, I just grew a beard because I don’t have anything else to do.”

The Stars Align…For Frustration

There is a college football bowl game that will be played twenty minutes from my house a few days after Christmas. All the people who get paid to figure such things out predict that North Carolina State University will be one of the teams selected to compete in that game.

N.C. State, where The Omawari-son is a member of the marching band. Yes, The Power Sound Of The South will be in town to perform before and during the game. My son and his horn will be playing where I live. But I can’t go.

I even called my doctor’s office and asked. The answer is no. Something about “time to heal”. Blah, blah, blah. I want to go to the game, but the doctor’s office is the boss of me.

Auuuuuuuugh, I don’t like this being grounded stuff, and I haven’t even started yet.


45 Comments on “On Being Grounded”

  1. Debbie says:

    Poor Oma — no way would I miss my son’s Band’s performance in a bowl game if it happened to be just 20 minutes away. Just sayin’. I’ve been to a couple of Domer’s Band performances already and loved them. All that energy, all that enthusiasm! I appreciate your doc’s advice, but he must not know how GOOD music is for healing, how good it is to bask in the pleasure and pride of a son’s accomplishment, how brief the time they’re in college (that we’re paying for). ‘Fraid I’d give it a shot, if you can stay from accidental bumps while in the crowd’s presence!

  2. Not allowed to ride in a car. Wow. Hope it goes by faster than you think it will.

  3. Don’t even THINK about going to that game! You stay in the house and get better! ๐Ÿ™‚

    I got grounded once, after I had my baby. It was winter, too, and did I ever get cabin fever! Maybe you can get people to come over.

  4. Reminds me of being on bed rest for four months, including June and July when I was pregnant. So much to do! Can’t do any of it. At least you can walk, instead of lie on your left side and watch “Chicago Hope” reruns (they don’t even have them anymore).

  5. Lenore Diane says:

    Oma, that is a big major bummer. My sister’s son was in the band for high school. No, not college … be nice – she would get very upset when she missed seeing him play. Actually, now that I think about it, his band did play a college game or Dallas game … I forget now. I remember my sister did all she could to get to the game, but she didn’t get to it. She is a flight attendant for Delta, and she was overseas at the time. Broke her heart.

    Make sure your windows are open during halftime. Maybe you’ll hear the music … goodness knows, if you can hear the music, you’ll be able to pinpoint your son and his instrument.

    Do you have someone going to the game to videotape it for you? I hope so. It’s not the same, but it is something.

    • omawarisan says:

      Oh no, I’m nice on band parents. A lot of them would drag themselves through broken glass to see their kids perform. I’ve missed very few shows since middle school, and know that had to be agony for her!

  6. Blogdramedy says:

    That doctor is a grinch. Tell him that time wounds all heels and he better watch out. ๐Ÿ˜‰

    • omawarisan says:

      I’m going to appeal. I talked to the nurse. I’ll get him on the hospital follow-up. I figure I should be able to present a strong argument with my system loaded with pain medication.

  7. patty punker says:

    this is exactly what’s wrong with the human condition — there’s always a fucking boss.

  8. Betty says:

    If they give you enough Vicodin, you may not care about going out.

  9. k8edid says:

    That’s going to be tough….I had foot surgeries – so was confined to the couch – only bathroom privileges allowed, and to the bedroom. I about ripped my hair out – I’d hate missing the band performance maybe someone will videotape for you (the marching band usually have someone videotaping them, don’t they?)

  10. Spectra says:

    Darling, I have been thinking about you all night…you will heal…men are mostly controll freaks, who hate to be sick. May I sen my Dove, Lovey, your way, to remind you life is sweet?

  11. I have only one word for you……Netflix

  12. Snoring Dog Studio says:

    Can’t you wear one of those neck whiplash donut things for just that day at the game? C’mon! Seriously? If you can walk outside, certainly you could sit on some bleachers at a football game. I think the doc is afraid that if you went to the game, you’d constantly be turning your head to spit curses at the fools sitting behind you. Tell him you’ll be so drunk you won’t even realize you’re in a football stadium. You’ll think you’re at home spitting curses at the TV.

    Bad me. Sorry. I know what it’s like to be confined after surgery. I went insane for the three weeks I was stuck inside. I didn’t even have a pet to talk to then! But I returned to normal eventually. And I moved away from Texas, so I don’t have to hear the stories about my “incident.”

    • omawarisan says:

      Pets….maybe I need more parakeets.

      The whiplash thing is good. I also have a suggestion to get in touch with some paramedic friends…who would probably end up calling my doctor.

  13. Jane says:

    I was once grounded for three weeks after foot surgery. It was fabulous! I am offering a one-time, exclusive pre-op protocol so that you too can enjoy your home time:

    First, you must shop for supplies (games, books, art supplies, writing tools, DVDs, food, etc). [Those of us in hurricane areas know all about that].

    Second, you must set up entertainment / work centers in your house. In your case, there should be a separate writing zone–similar to an office zone. This is a perfect opportunity to set that novel in motion. (Setting up a meditation alter is fun, and also a good use of Feng Shui).

    Third, throw out all annoying matter that has accumulated in your home so as to avoid a drop in your Qi which might alter your recovery time.

    Oppotional Fourth, make a loose schedule for writing your novel. Choose a two to three hour period each day where you will work on your novel in your previously set-up writing zone. Even if you end up staring at a blank screen or just free-writing for a time, you are working on the novel.

    I volunteer to be one of your “preferred readers” (reference Stephen King in “On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft.” That book is pretty inspirational for writers!

    • omawarisan says:

      Preparations are in process.

      I like the writing period idea, I can do that. No novel for me, this is a book on communication. Twenty years of getting people off bridges, I’m going with what I know.

  14. Omawarison says:

    Hey, how ’bout we go and grab some Lupie’s for lunch the day after I get back in that case?

  15. N B says:

    Please take care of yourself, my friend! I am sure the surgery will go great, and hope that you heal quickly. ๐Ÿ™‚

  16. Amy says:

    I could deal with the time off work, but not the not being able to go anywhere. I would have a couple people on-call to deliver me things to keep me entertained.
    What if you promise the doctor that the safest driver you know will drive you to the game and will go 10 miles under the speed limit the whole way? And you could sit in the back seat, surrounded by pillows and foam packing peanuts. Think the doc would go for that?

  17. Pie says:

    Spectra. Your Badass dove video is hilarious.

    Bummer about your enforced bedrest, Oma. Just drop some of your meds in a mug of hot chocolate and you won’t even care if you miss Omawarison’s performance. Though I know in reality, it wouldn’t work. Someone can go to the game with an iPad and skype set up. That should sort you right out.

  18. Laura says:

    This is why it’s so important to have a post-surgery entertainment plan. If reality is going to drive you crazy, the only rational thing to do is escape into a fantasy world. This works well for air travel, too.

  19. “I can go anywhere I can walk.” Phew! At least you can go to the bathroom. That would be the most important place for me.

  20. planetross says:

    If you start early enough, you can probably walk to the stadium.
    … Just saying. ๐Ÿ™‚

    I was grounded once, but it was the rubber shoes.

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