Caretaking, Community, and Creation
I’m writing today from the couch. My foot is elevated atop three pillows and my bruised toes peek out at me from above my laptop screen. Today marks two weeks since I had surgery, a bunionectomy on my left foot. Bunions are pretty common. Often they’re manageable— many people will choose to live with their bunion(s) and will watch as their foot bones begin to morph throughout their lifetime. I’ve had my bunion since high school, when the genetic bump on the right side of my left foot became more pronounced. I danced, played softball, volleyball, all to the detriment of my foot. A few years ago the bunion started bothering me in a noticeable way. It became painful to stand for long periods of time or to walk long distances. Certain shoes became unwearable. I noticed that my big toe was starting to angle itself behind my second toe in a concerning way. My foot looks like an 80 year old’s, I remember thinking.
The surgery went well. Today I got my stitches out (unpleasant!!!!) and my surgeon gave me some exercises to do. We went over my before and after x-rays, and she explained how she moved my joint and bone over so my big toe would now be closer to my other toes. She told me that at the six week mark my bones will be 80% healed, that the last 20% will come slowly over the coming months. The 100%, if it comes, will be something my body decides, not something the surgeon does.
I’m off work for two weeks and I prepared well for the down time: library holds arrived, Switch 2 fully charged, The Fountain November challenge queued up, a movie list created. I told my friends and family and have tried to be vocal about my needs for socialization during my recovery. It’s gotten me thinking a lot about community, about friendship, about caretaking.
There have been some really lovely moments: my husband doing… everything for me, a Zoom writing session with lindsey peters berg , a friendsgiving I attended, two friends visiting and dropping off a care package (and a free facial), my friends texting and checking in, some of them offering Facetimes (also my beloved Marco Polos from kristin), Meg Flores making time for a movie night with me despite her busyness as a mom of two young children, my work bestie Facetiming me to check in, my cats being lovebugs. There are also folks who made offers to visit but never followed up. Folks who have barely checked in. It bothers me, a little; I find myself asking that unhelpful question: if it were them trapped in their house for weeks, lonely, wouldn’t I visit? I do feel a little sad about how friends haven’t shown up. But life is busy and I’ll never know how I’d caretake in another universe where our roles were reversed.
I suspect I’m feeling tender right now about friendship because I’m finally in the thick of writing my novel. I’ve written previously about how much resistance I’ve had with this fiction project; how difficult it’s been, how much it’s impacted my sense of self worth as a writer. Something finally gave— I’m now thinking about the story, the characters, even when I’m not writing. I don’t dread my writing time like I had for months. Olivia Crandall mentioned that she often has breakdowns/severe doubts around a certain word count and encouraged me to journal/note when those come up (genius, btw because I can comfort myself the next time this happens with oh, I’ve been here before, it will pass).
Out of the desire to make moves in silence, something I’ve literally never done before, I’m not going to reveal too much about the plot of the novel. I’m not even telling my husband/close friends, who are always my first readers, many details which is SOOO difficult for me to do. There’s a friendship between three women at the heart of it; there’s grieving the tragic death of a best friend; there’s addiction; there’s a bachelorette party; there’s endless musings about if any love can truly last forever. The book is so different from what I thought it’d be, and my characters are surprising me left and right. It’s fun! I’m having fun. And thank GOD because I was almostttt convinced I’d never write again. I can’t wait to experience my husband’s and friends’ reactions in real time when they read this completed draft. How magical.
I’ve also been reading Elena Ferrante’s My Brilliant Friend quartet and it’s the perfect companion for a book about intense female friendship. But it’s also made me a little nostalgic, a little sad. I miss my childhood friends, one of whom I can barely get a hold of because of her addiction. I miss days between the three of us where we got dirty on the softball field and then went to Dairy Queen, our soft serves mixed with dirt. I miss driving around in my shitty Grand Am and blaring Forever the Sickest Kids.
It occurs to me that I’ve longed for that level of intimacy with my adult friends, that I’ve maybe even expected it. BFF or nothing. But it’s impossible to be that close when we’re separated by state lines, when we each have our own daily rhythms the other isn’t privy to, when we have children or other major responsibilities. It’s impossible for many reasons. A year and a half ago I lost two important friendships to me (I’ve also written about this loss). They decided, despite our closeness, our everyday presence in one another’s lives, that they’d rather not be friends. It shattered me. It broke my heart. I felt so embarrassed. I’d treated our relationship as if abandonment wasn’t an option because for me it never was.
But we’re here now. And I think I’ve learned a lot. Grown a lot. Something I didn’t anticipate was the way I’d come to value smaller, less intense, friendships. Or even random moments of togetherness, despite their fleeting nature. I feel so extremely lucky to feel that intense BFF-level bond with a few people— it truly means the world to me. It’s a miracle that we’re able to maintain that kind of closeness. And I feel lucky to experience community in other ways that while smaller are no less profound. I’ve felt really moved by a few of these moments recently:
At the Formula 1 race in Austin. My husband and I have been F1 fans for years now (thank you, Drive to Survive or as I like to call it Real Housewives of the Paddock), and I got him tickets to the Austin GP for his birthday. I did not anticipate vibing with the crowd (sorry), but I actually had multiple interactions that made my chest glow with that special feeling of human connection. The girl in front of me in the bathroom line who’d driven from Kentucky and told me she loved my Lewis Hamilton shirt. The family who sat down next to us and gave us their extra fan. The group of Argentinian fans behind us who screamed for Franco Colapinto even though he didn’t do shit. I made a friend while waiting for the GP staff to refill the water tank; she was draped in a Japanese flag and we talked about Japan, Tuki Tsunoda, and her relocation from Japan to LA. After I got my water I said goodbye to her and walked back to my seat, buoyed with the power of a nice conversation, a little sad I’d never see her again. And then, days later, we nearly walked into each other at the airport. We both gasped, then hugged, then exchanged contact information. That’s my girl fr.
Two great fits spotted at the F1 race Watching the World Series at LaSita. LaSita is an incredible Filipino restaurant in DTLA (HIGHLY RECOMMEND). I saw on Instagram that they were hosting folks on their patio for a few games of the World Series; my husband and a few friend went multiple times. Being with people when the Dodgers win is an incredible feeling— seeing the same people show up for the next game at the same place because the food and the company was just that damn good is even better. I want that Dodger Dog with Filipino Spaghetti so bad rn. Hans and I watched the last game in a bar with strangers and when I high-fived some of them I felt so tenderhearted I almost cried.
GO FKN DODGERS The Fountain November Challenge. This month The Fountain Chelsea Bieker opened their gates wide for a free November challenge. I’ve been keeping up with the Daily Prompts and really enjoying the community shares. It’s so incredibly helpful and anxiety-reducing to see other writers feel the things I sometimes do about their work— fear, inability, resistance— and to also see them come through the other side. We encourage each other to persevere and I find it to be beyond inspiriting.
Camping. I spent 1.5 days camping in Palomar Mountain State Park and it changed me, lol. My husband is an EAGLE SCOUT! and it was honestly a little sexy to realize how prepared he was (sleeping bags were cozy as hell, he can chop wood??, and we had enough food to last another few days). We went with our best friends and their two children. None of us had cell service so we often had no idea what time it was. That kind of surrender results in a kind of intimacy, I think: I felt really with these people and I didn’t want it to end.
I'm thinking again of what my surgeon said. How she only knows for sure the timeline for being 80% healed, how the other 20% will come on its own time. She can’t control it, and I can’t either. Maybe I’ll get to 94% healed and never get any higher. In other words, maybe some wounds will pulse with some pain forever. I think I can live with that.
Nurse Winston
ok this motivated me to embrace formula 1 outside of our living room! thank you for that
I just started the fourth Elena Ferrante book, and I love all of them so much! Can I ask, which one are you on?