My teaching year is over. I'm relieved, yet disappointed. I no longer have to stand in front of a class. I'll still grade papers, converse with the substitute and conduct a meeting, but the most difficult part of my job is over for the 2006-2007 school year.
Now there's nothing to stop me from thinking about my surgery.
Writing, I've realized, is the single most important thing for me right now. As this week has passed, I've found myself spending more and more time on writing related activities. At times, it feels like the only part of my life I can control. Churning out new pages, revising my business plan and preparing partials consumes the minutes of the days that I might otherwise spend dwelling on my health and the outcome of my surgery. Sometimes I want to scream. Sometimes I want to cry. Most of the time I shove the visions of hospital scrubs, OR lights, and IVs out of my brain to make room for the new scenes of Scottish contemporary #3.
Many of my current emotions will fit nicely with the plot I couldn't quite nail down four months ago. I'd set that manuscript aside so the story and characters could mature a little. Perhaps I just wasn't ready to handle the job. Now, it feels like the characters are begging me to pick up the pen and let them have as much free reign over my emotions as my own scars do...and will in the coming days and weeks. Maybe I should listen to them. Together we just might touch the minds and hearts of others with our tale of courage, strength, and love.