I am on drugs. It’s 4 am; I’m in my hotel room. I am Kerouac or Ginsberg or some other guy famous for stealing the early morning hours and trying to swim the drug haze with a snorkel and a Macbook, set up to catch the ideas that swim like so many fish around my swirly mind.
In truth, I can’t sleep because of the knee pain, and I can’t think very straight because of the Percocet. I don’t mind these morning hours. It’s currently early afternoon in my other motherland, that sweet, sweet Armenia. I’m hoping to catch a few friends who are over there now checking email or taking a look at Facebook. And of course, I am on the blog here to say that I have arrived and I have had surgery and I’m already recovering.
They went in with a knife, some needle and thread, and a camera. When they came out, they had sewn some things up and given me the best possible outcome. They were able to repair the cartilige instead of removing some dangling piece. Removing a piece would likely lead to early arthritis in the knee, so the repair is leagues better. However, the recovery for a repaired meniscus is much longer, so I won’t be coming back to Armenia until mid-April. This to me is pretty mind-boggling. I was not planning on such a long stay here. But I’m a few blocks away from a Barnes & Nobles, from a Subway, from a place with amazing shrimp, and from some delicious and famous cupcakes (I will lift my eye-rolling-over-the-cupcake-fad policy for these goodlings). I am going to survive.
So, stay tuned for tales from the Hobble Goblin in America. I’m sure you’ll notice me pining for my other motherland soon, but for now, I’ll be enjoying this country like whoa.