Just Write: Confined

April 3, 2012

*disclaimer: this post was written under influence of big-ass painkillers. Which actually might make it better, but most likely not. But I love Heather’s idea of Just Write. Even if it’s an ordinary day, just write. Even if it’s an epic day, just write. Even if you have to write under a Vicodin influence, because it’s the only way you can sit for ten minutes,  just write.  It heals us.

I am hunkered in a corner, pink scarf wrapped around me, waiting for my flight. Waiting. Waiting in the smell of slick pizza slices, over-salted fries, cookies that nobody needs. Waiting for the plane that’s taking me to pain. I kind of start to snort about the “plane to pain,” bit, because that line is so incredibly bad that it’s almost genius; why didn’t Def Leppard ever come up with that one? Woulda been a winner, dudes. “On the plane to pain…”

I am on the smallest concourse in the airport, and as I scan the passerby, I realize that there are two Alpha Groups in the area. The first, and most audacious group, is the Small Show Dog Posse.  These are tricked-out canines, let me tell you. They are fluffed and bowed and toenail-painted and they don’t enjoy being confined to their carriers, which interests me. These are animals known as “purse dogs,” right? They should be used to confined spaces, so why all the barking and whining and fuss?  Does the airline pet carrier not smell like Hermes or Vuitton? Is that the problem?  Whatever the cause, there are some wicked-pissed off Bichon Frises.  As soon as they pass security, doting owners open their cages, kiss and fondle buttery ears, and say things like, “Aww,  Claire-bear, I know. That was so hard. I know. But it’s okay now. Mommy’s here.” The dogs are so excited that they lick with pink Tinkerbell tongues and piddle right next to the security gates, which I don’t mind one bit.

Team Alpha Two enters the mix;  teenagers and wheels and smiles and missing limbs. Legs, in particular. I’ve never seen so many wheelchairs in one place. The convoy of wheel and metal through the concourse draws attention–how can it not–and the kids know it, but somehow, as part of a Wolf Pack, there’s a certain kind of pride in the act. The kids wear matching jerseys–an athletic team, obviously– and their pleasure at being here, in this shitty little concourse, going somewhere new, somewhere to prove what they damn well can do, makes me feel about as small as the corner I’m sitting in.

The fluffy dogs, still peevish over their confinement, whine in their owners’ laps and the teens wheel over for smoothies, raucous in their teenager-nish.  I snuggle in my scarf and wait for the PainPlane; a plane that I know when I return 7 days later, will have a black, standard issue wheelchair waiting just for me.

***Thanks for being here, readers. I still can’t sit long at this computer, but I have some wonderful words from friends to share soon, and I will be posting when I can. Thank you for all the well wishes and support. This old crone is hanging in there.

{ 28 comments… read them below or add one }

Abby April 3, 2012 at 11:28 am

And yet under the influence of heavy medication, you still manage to churn out a post that leaves me envious of your true gift with the written word. I want some of whatever you’re on, my friend.

Good luck with your recovery from whatever this roadblock is, and know that along with that wheelchair, you have tons of support waiting for you here ;)


Rudri Bhatt Patel @ Being Rudri April 3, 2012 at 2:45 pm

Brilliant. Feel Better Soon. xoxo


Jennifer April 3, 2012 at 3:31 pm

Feel better soon.


SuziCate April 3, 2012 at 4:39 pm

Vicodin or not, your words always flow! Hope you’re feeling better soon!


jacquie April 3, 2012 at 5:57 pm

pain killers or not your post are a pleasure to read, offer great insight and often give me something to ponder. thank you.

feel better soon.


Papa Guy April 3, 2012 at 9:34 pm

Yaa Hoo….Your back! Well sorta….
Plane to Pain!! Ha, you crack me up.


idiosyncratic eye April 4, 2012 at 3:38 am

Great piece, your descriptions always transport me to the place and time, so evocative. Hope you’re feeling better soon. :)


TKW April 4, 2012 at 8:56 am


I’ve tried to post comments a few times lately but they haven’t gone through? Don’t know if it’s your weirdness or my weirdness (probably the latter) but I wanted you to know that I’m still reading! ~Dana


Jenna April 4, 2012 at 8:17 am

I echo idiosyncratic eye’s comment word for word.


Privilege of Parenting April 4, 2012 at 9:29 pm

Thanks for allowing us to be there a little bit on your journey. You’re brave, pithy and funny—and I send All Best Healing Wishes


Tinne from Tantrums and Tomatoes April 5, 2012 at 4:58 am

I suggest you quickly coin the phrase ‘plane to pain’ before someone else does.
Best whishes!


Elizabeth April 5, 2012 at 7:21 am

Thank you got checking on with us and I hope the Vicodin does its job and you’re back to normal soon! Drugs or not you’ve captured the essence of waiting in shitty terminals perfectly.


Brooke April 5, 2012 at 8:24 am

You’ve been missed, Dana! Hope you’re on the road to recovery. :) This is still a gorgeous post, Vicodin or not.


Jane April 5, 2012 at 10:16 am

I just hate it that you had to board that Pain Plane at all. Hugs and healing to you, dear friend. xo


Ink April 5, 2012 at 10:22 am



naptimewriting April 6, 2012 at 11:50 am

Glad you could sit long enough for this one.

Heal well!


Contemporary Troubadour April 7, 2012 at 12:35 pm

Feel better, Kitch! And rest rest rest. (How did you manage to type all of this so coherently on Vicodin? That stuff is brainmelt!)


TKW April 10, 2012 at 4:36 pm

It took a LOOOOOOONG time. :)


Paula April 9, 2012 at 6:41 pm

Letting you know I’m thinking about you and praying you are much better soon.


Arnebya April 10, 2012 at 10:50 am

Vicodin looks good on you (well, on your words, at least. For all I know, you’re in six day old PJs looking like shit). But at least you can still write, right?

Here’s to healing moving on along even though it’s taking its sweet time. Rest as long as you need (read: as long as your body wants).


Heather April 16, 2012 at 7:07 am

Even doped up on the good drugs you make me smile. Perhaps in your drugged state you should write PainPlane… You know all those old guys are touring again. They’re gonna need new material! I hope that you are feeling better and that the pain has departed. Hugs.


Web Directory July 14, 2012 at 12:03 pm

U9UuEK I really enjoy the post.


online doctor July 14, 2012 at 5:58 pm

You have noted very interesting details! ps decent web site.


Homepage July 14, 2012 at 7:17 pm



Web 2.0 July 15, 2012 at 6:57 am

b7yAwe Im obliged for the blog post.Much thanks again. Really Great.


Web design July 16, 2012 at 5:22 pm

salutations from over the ocean. Great article I will return for more.


Zebra Zoologist July 16, 2012 at 5:57 pm

nice page you should write a weekly newsletter :)


cheap replica designer handbags July 16, 2012 at 6:15 pm

I have read some just right stuff here. Certainly price bookmarking for revisiting. I wonder how a lot attempt you set to make one of these magnificent informative web site.


Leave a Comment

Previous post:

Next post: