a ground fog

I missed the ground hog, but was surrounded by fog all the way from Indianapolis today. It’s FEBRUARY 4th …was gone a few days to Indianapolis, learning all the shortcuts in the Methodist Hospital corridors. Not exactly a vacation. The ground fog was heavy today, but I can appreciate coming back to a house that doesn’t need a fire for a day or so.

Thursday the beau and I went to Indy for his hip surgery, which was performed on Friday. We went up the day before because bad weather was expected, and wanted to avoid the ice/snow mix that was coming. On Friday, his surgery went off without a hitch other than the doctor saying his bones were “crap”, a new medical term for young men who have the bones of an eighty-year old woman. After the screws and plate were in place he brought me a photo and told me that. After I waited an hour (after the doctor spoke with me) I was instructed to go to the room where they would bring him up after he was done in recovery. He had no real problem with the surgery, anesthesia, or recovery.

He had a roommate which we met later in the day after he came back from his first surgery, to repair the orbit of the left eye, due to a fall off a roof. At some point, when I put the date on the beau’s wall erase-board, I noticed the date was incorrect on the other board and changed it. After that I became aware of his name when someone came in looking for him. When he got to the room I felt bad for him because he was hungry but could not have any food since he was scheduled the next day for more surgery. He was later given a little water, but nothing else. The next day the young man, Ben, went in for surgery on his wrist and hip, and his mouth was banded. He was gone the entire day. Apparently some difficulty arose in recovery. This is where my connection story begins.

On Saturday I bought a paper and picked a comic, Rose is Rose, for anagramming. The strip was about Rose looking for experiences to write about in her journal. The text I chose was, “That’s it. I’ll need more if you want to be included in my journal.” It seemed appropriate, if nothing else. I started re-arranging letters. At some point, I wrote down three Bible verses, and then added one more. After I was randomly “guided to” the first one, and then opened the book to the second one, I knew I needed one from Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. One verse was about a blind man being healed, another had his withered hand restored, and, well, you can probably see where this is going. I wrote them on a piece of paper, and put the words to the comic bubble on the other side at the top of the paper and an email address at the bottom of the page. I went for a walk and a tram ride. When I got back it was obvious that Ben was not back yet. He had gone into surgery about 7:15 that morning. Then, something occurred to me.

In my bag I had a small bottle of water which I had brought from my last re-hab appointment on Tuesday. The name on the bottle was Reflections spring water, a small bottle. At some point before I left home I noticed these bottles had the name BEN on the bottom. This particular bottle of water had gone with me to church on Sunday last, where I had one drink from it, then put it in my coat pocket, which is why I had it with me at the hospital. Late in the afternoon I made a connection with that bottle to the beau’s roommate.

I anagrammed a couple of times, and saw the words BEN ONE LITTLE WATER kept coming up. Yes, the bottle is recyclable, so the number one (1) in the small triangle was there, under which the word PET was written. Elsewhere on the bottle the word BEN, the number 2 on the numbers 715. I was very aware of the water having been opened once. A point came where I knew I was to drink it all at one time, to get rid of it, to have an empty bottle, as it were. I rarely do that with anything I drink. I drank it even though I was not thirsty. After I did, and left the cap off. So the inside of the bottle could dry, and took a couple of deep breaths. Almost like cleansing breaths. I finished my anagram, writing three of them on the paper, between the comic strip text and the address at the bottom of the page. I don’t remember exactly because I later gave him the paper, and the last one was written in such a way that the email address at the bottom of the page became part of what else was written, “I find little Ben one water…you just mind the Lord, you can mail…”

The anagrams were along these lines:

I’d write… can you feel that? I’ll tune your old mind to Benjamin’s!

It’s Benjamin in room, you’ll need a clue, I try with date found.”

I did notice the date immediately when I first got to the room, and then I changed it.

Then anagrams along the lines of healing:

If you come and try to heal Ben, I mind injuries until allowed.”

If allowed, try to heal Ben…mind injuries until you and I come.”

Well, he went in on Wednesday, but was not operated on until Friday.

I’m just IAMAI, you found it children! BEN one on little water.” (IAMAI is apart of my conversations with God) I have a cartoon-like critter I made up a couple of years ago called IAMAI.

Ben just a little watery!!!I found holy lumen…I co-ordinate mind.”

Later, while waiting for Ben to come back to the room, I talked with his mother. She said he was having a problem with not getting enough oxygen, something about some water in the lung, and as soon as they got it out he was able to get more oxygen in. He got back to the room about 13 hours after he left, making for a long day for those waiting for him. I didn’t want to go back to my room until he got back Saturday. No one had visited him Sunday by the time we left there, but I told him his church family would be happy to help him the many months he will need assistance after he leaves the hospital. All he needs to do is ask. I spent a little time talking with Ben on Sunday, we read a few scriptures together, and he promised he would write to me so I’d know his outcome.

All the walking I did in the hospital and to and from did help me to get my exercises in, especially the ones I was supposed to do for re-training my brain about the dizziness. I needed to be able to walk turning my head from side-to-side, so long hallways helped in that respect. Still, sitting around a hospital is hard on the old bones, and one’s diet. Cafeteria food was mostly fried-something, so I ate a few pieces of food off the beau’s plate each meal. As of today, we are back home, so back to the usual routine…anagramming my life each day. Rose is Rose had the connection the other day.

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