Ten years ago today I was being wheeled into the Huntsman's operating room and having the cancerous parts of myself removed, from myself. I had set parameters beforehand with my surgeon on what music could not be played overhead during the procedure. The big NO NOs were Reo Speedwagon and Air Supply. Just in case I died on the operating table, I didn't want the last thing resonating through my being to be "All Out of Love" or even worse "Can't Fight This Feeling." I know, I know that someone will wield WHAM! against me. Go ahead. I can take it. I don't mind. No matter how embarrassing "Bad Boys" might seem I will sing that on a loop for eternity if it means to never hear another song from The Bands Who Should Not be Named again. Now, where was I before I got lost in my tirade against shit 80s limp rock? Oh yeah, being amazed and grateful that I am still on this floating blue marble ten years later.
Ten years. It seems so long and yet, that is just how long ago it was when the last Harry Potter film was released. Yup. Not a lie. I totally remember thinking how lucky I was to live long enough to see all the films. Stephie didn't. Steph didn't live to see a lot. Many haven't. I think that every time I see the leaves change. I get nearly panicked each autumn to pay the change of season its due homage. I owe this life my attention. That I can pay.
My surgery also took place on the Day of the Dead. The day when two universes exist together. Being the nerdy geek that I am, I decided to put my own internal spin on it. I had been watching the last season of Torchwood where no one on Earth was able to die. Skipping all the horrible plot holes (and literal holes) in the show, I held on to that theme as mine. My own Miracle Day. My Day of the Dead where no one was allowed to die.
Ten years later I am just as dorky. Still hold the leaves changing just as sacred and I will joyously hold in contempt Ear Worm Supply and URA Jackwagon. 😉😜
Getting used to the miraculous. I could get used to that.
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