Searching for Guacamole on the Moon’s Vast Dark Side

I spend entirely too much time culling images, looking for one that might best illustrate a blog post. There was a time that those energies were directed toward Facebook. My focus has been narrowed by my very own internal control center: “My Achy, Breaky Heart.”

The key is to study directions and, as cousin Damian reminded me, comply and remain positive. My memory, cognition, and communication skills are in horrific disrepair. Both my health care provider, UNC’s Cardiology Department, and my beloved, who has my Medical Power of Attorney, simply manage my medications and various therapies.

Yessir. Yessir.
They take reign of my swoons and throbs, and keep a vigilant ear for the beat of a new heart. My new heart.

Meanwhile, I still post on Tartuffe’s Folly, but at the pace of an “out of breath” and compliant snail. And I search for the perfect image to stimulate visuals and “accessorize” the written word.

It would follow then that, at April’s baton hand-off, I’d browse through my May Day file of vintage B&W photographs and scans of relative paintings. By the time I had my hands on this pink Puck Maypolitical cover caricature, it was May 4. The post was mired in that swollen spiral of missed opportunities and deadlines.

The image still dressed my iPad with well-cropped wallpaper. After a few days’ studies. I realized that the publish date was May 5, 1908. My beloved would likely have to assist me in creating a relevant segue from sassy maypole satire to Cinquo de Mayo toasts and cheer.

I looked at my iPhone to confirm the date and it was May 9. Such projects were and are increasingly sucking from me any energy and optimism that I still hold to my chest, and its faint patter. Yikes! Egads! Zut alors! Damn.

Accepting defeat by details is excruciating for a 58-year old over-analytical, perfect risk “heart transplant” candidate.

As I scanned Pinterest to correct mis-taps, I found the answer:

My “Nod to Pink Freud” album was the ideal solution, albeit one that simply generalizes visuals of colors and hues.

My mission was finally complete. I was exhausted with a long-lasting pant. I was ready for my afternoon ritual of a Criminal Minds marathon.

Okay. Okay. I’m complying.

Wheels up in twenty.

3 thoughts on “Searching for Guacamole on the Moon’s Vast Dark Side

  1. Hi Mark,
    I got some info in this post. So when do you head for the hospital or are you already there (my memory isn’t so good :-)? I know it’s a tough time so all you can do is hang in there and hope. They will keep you going and eventually it will come. I just had clinic and after a winter of all kinds of infections including the flu, my tests came out at over 100% of expected and my doctor remarked that after some serious illnesses, I seem to have missed the big R bullet. R is rejection in case you didn’t know. I do hope that after you get your new heart, you write a wonderful letter (you have the gift or words) to the donor family. Ok, I’ll get off my soapbox.

  2. I always have warm and tender feelings reading your emotional documentation of your trying state in limbo, with pangs of sharp concern at times and then unexpected laughter again at your skillful expressions- “.. mired in that swollen spiral of missed opportunities…” (I sometimes record lines like this of yours in my little book of wise notes from the Greats).

    Now you can roll May First over Cinquo de Mayo right into Freud’s Pinks – could it get more exciting than that?

    As always, all best wishes to you and your Beloved, may your new heart soon be beating for you. Looks like your own caring heart is hanging in with you to bridge you over safely.


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