Thursday, 30 September 2010

13 Year Old Son Gets His Head Seen To And Silent Pole Goes Home

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www.agracefuldeath.blogspot.com  for the A Graceful Death exhibition, paintings from the end of life

13 Year Old Son Has His Ear Operation And The Silent Pole Goes Back To Poland.

We shall miss our Silent Pole.  He has been a lovely addition to the house, and I think he has enjoyed his time here working night and day alone and silent in his room.  I know I would.  I hope he comes back and I have said his wife is welcome too, so I will await developments.  I wonder if she is silent and elusive too.  I wonder if they communicate on a non physical plane of Higher Consciousness, I wonder if they have reached a Nirvana of sorts and don't need words, or the presence of the Other, to say, "Am pooped.  Fancy a takeaway tonight?"  

13 Year Old Son has a big operation today.  He has only one eardrum and is very hard of hearing in his left ear.  So he is having another eardrum constructed today using skin from behind his ear.  The hope is that he will be able to hear better and that his constant tinnitus will go.  We have gone in for this operation once before, but his right ear was failing so they put it off until it was not going to be risky and he lose his hearing more.  So there is a chance they won't operate today either, if his right ear is not up to scratch.  That would be a darn shame, as we want to get this done and some improvements made.

I say "we", but I mean him.  I say "we" have gone in for this op before, and "we" want to get the operation done etc, but actually, it is only him.  I won't be lying on a Sympathy Table in the operating theatre having a third eardrum made for me too, out of Empathy for the Son.  He wants to get it over and done with, he wants to hear better and he is the only one having anything done.  Me, I am the Mother and feel dreadfully protective (now if you are going to take my son's ears and head to pieces, make sure your knives are properly sharp.  And wash your hands first).  I will take him to the doors of the theatre, and then probably go back and lie in his bed till he is brought back up.  I was up at 6am today to make sure he had some food before 7am as he is not allowed any after that, and I am exhausted already.  Only 7.45 am now.  Two weeks off school, and from tomorrow onwards The Boy will be able to hear a leaf fall in the next garden.  At least, I suppose, if he can hear me say "Do your homework"  or "Have a bath" that would be progress.

So here I sit.  In bed, with my Toast and Nutella next to me, and it is only 7.49am.  We leave at 9.30am.  The poor Muppet came home last night and is due to have his braces on his teeth tightened today.  I was going to take him and hold him down as they got out the spanners and monkey wrenches to do the tightening, but he will have to go on his own now.  I have left him money to take a taxi to the hospital (orthodontics in one hospital, eardrums in another) from the station, so maybe he will still love me.  Sigh.

My jobs this morning are to have a bath, pack for the Eardrum Hospital, leave instructions to Anyone Who Cares here to take out the rubbish tomorrow, make sure I have enough fun things to do until tomorrow at some point (I am staying overnight with Eardrum Boy) and mouth a silent Farewell to our Silent Pole.  I finished the Clown Angel yesterday and will send it off tomorrow when I get back, so that is all in order.  The portrait of the Rocking Rev Rachel is due to start on Monday and I have finished the Painting For The Kitchen for a new house in London.  So all is going to plan...

I am looking forward to doing nothing much at the hospital.  My dear 13 Year Old Son is like a giant lion cub, he wants to play fight all the time and is bigger than most people.  He likes to fall on me from unexpected places and give me hugs that make me worried I am going to die.  He likes to fireman's lift me to different parts of the house and leave me there, and he loves to practice shadow boxing on me while I am trying to cook/wash up/talk on the phone/paint/sleep.  If I was a perfect mum to him, I would play rugby, know how to box, sword fight, play American Football and get someone else in to cook and do the housework and paintings.  I would be like Cato in Peter Sellers Pink Panther films.  So today, I will spend quality time with him because he will be under anaesthetic and will be unable to practice head butting with me and I will be able to just sit and hold his hand and read.  And hope that my turning the pages loudly won't annoy his new found Super Radar Level hearing.

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