Bleeding Hearts

On a pretty regular basis, people who hear that I relocated from Denver to Cincinnati, ask me if I don't miss Denver. After all, they will commonly observe, Denver is beautiful, and Cincinnati is -- well... Cincinnati.

Cincinnati is the Rodney Dangerfield of American cities... Remember his signature line -- "I don't get no respect."

I tend to answer that question with a series of observations about the differences between the two places. It is my way to point out that there are charms and delights to be found here, even as there were in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains.

One of the things that I love about this place, is that there is springtime here. Dependably. The winter will fade away and the warmth and light will come flooding back and the earth blooms in an ever-changing palette of color and texture. It is like watching a slowly unfolding, and enormous, impressionist painting.

There are things that grow here, and flowers that bloom here that I just love. I have bleeding hearts in my garden. I have always loved these delicate and lovely little plants. My grandmother called them "pocket book plants," and her garden was the first place I ever saw them when I was a child of perhaps five or six years.

You cannot grow bleeding hearts in Denver. It is simply too dry and too hot and the season comes too late. In Denver, spring blooms routinely get flattened by those notorious late spring snow storms. Far better to stick to the hardy, and sun-loving summer bloomers. If you live in the foothills, it is best to put a painting of bleeding hearts on your living room wall.

My bleeding hearts come up each spring, and I am always surprised. I have not had them long enough to take them for granted. They come poking through the warming soil in the early spring, and I look at them and ask myself what that plant is... and then they burst into bloom, and I am once again delighted and enraptured and enchanted.

And so it is that I have come to put down roots, literally and figuratively, in this place I now call home. There are no soaring peaks and very few of the stunning vistas that were my joy in my Colorado home, but here there are lovely colors and a warm and musical springtime and bleeding hearts in my garden.

swan

We're back!

Today, we hit the 34-day mark. It was 34 days ago that we last spanked and made love... on the Sunday before the surgery.

We knew, going into this, that there would be required recovery time, and that during that time, our usual and prefered ways of relating intimately would simply not be possible. Still, knowing that there is a long dry spell ahead is not the same thing as actually making your way through that day by day.

To be sure, in the beginning of all of this, Master was so sick that there was not a thought for what we were missing. We were too busy and too entirely absorbed in trying to keep Him alive and recovering. That phase took its toll, but there was simply no time for pining and moping about what we couldn't do. The last couple of weeks, though, as He has gradually grown stronger, the longings have come back, and it has been hard not to wonder how long it was going to be -- were we ever going to get back to what we had before? Or, did we give it all up as a result of making this decision -- maybe it wasn't going to ever get better. That was scary for us both.

Well, the good news is that the long wait is over. We woke up this morning and luxuriated in a slow, lazy, Saturday morning. And then it happened -- He pulled me in and announced that it was time for me to get a good spanking. I froze in my place, tucked in against His chest and was afraid to move --afraid that if I moved or said anything, I might make the moment vanish in a puff of smoke. But no, He told me to get my pillow, and we were off.

For me, it was like diving deep into a cool pool after a long, hot, dry hike. I was simply entranced by the sensations and the feelings and the overwhelming sense of relief that His touch was creating for me. I was glad for that, because one of the things that I worried about during the "off" season was whether I'd be able to pick it back up again when the time came. I think He started a little slowly, but by the end, He was definately whomping away, and clearly having a good time watching me squirm and gasp. It was good. Very good, and when the time came for me to kiss the paddle and say my customary, "Thank You for my spanking, Sir," I really was feeling good and spanked and glad for it.

We made love, too. Afterwards. And that worked just fine too.

swan

A Very Good Sign

We woke up this morning, early; before the alarm... and He took my hand in the darkness and guided it to His dick -- and erection! The first one of the recovery! It vanished almost immediately, but it WAS there!

I just laid there, in the darkness, with a big, stupid grin on my face. There's hope.

swan

Not Prayers Exactly...

Prayer is naught else but a yearning of soul...when it is practiced with the whole heart, it has great power. —Mechthild of Magdeburg

We have been just awash in all your good thoughts and positive energies and carefully offered prayers during this last couple of months. As we've gone through the preparations and the actual surgery -- and the recovery process, so many of our readers have reached out to tell us that they are holding us up in whatever way they can. From around the world, people we've never met, except in this cyber neighborhood, have reached out across the distances that separate us all, and kept our bodies and souls and hearts and minds inside some sort of metaphysical circle.

I find that amazing and fascinating, because we make no secret of our lack of "religious" orthodoxy. Ours is a world view that is inherently and intrinsically spiritual, but we surely don't ascribe to the generally held christian view of things. The sense of the divine that pervades our understanding of the universe, is simply not reliant on some sort of deity. We tend to find ourselves on the outside of just about every religious practice -- looking in and shaking our heads in wonderment. And then we move along -- doing what we do.

Everyone who reads us knows how we are. So, it is a great and powerful sort of giving that you have all engaged in -- offering your prayers and your chants and your cheers and your hopes and your meditations and whatever else it is that you each individually have done to call upon the creative divine force in the universe on our behalf.

You have collaborated in asking for health and healing and wellness for us all, and in doing that, you have, collectively, brought about real and positive change. I can spin elaborate intellectual constructs to explain what I think that is all about, but I don't really feel like I need to. I am simply, deeply, and forever grateful.

swan

Master's Birthday

Today, April 23, is Master's 60th birthday. There are lots of important historical events that happened on this day (see the list below), but for me and for T, the most important thing to ever happen on this day was the birth of this wonderful, good, caring, strong man that we love so very much.

It has been a challenging and uncomfortable month leading up to this day, but things seem to be improving. We are seeing smiles again, and the sparkle is back in His eyes. He's not completely recovered or completely healed, but He is much, much better and that is a great gift for us all.

I am so glad to have Him in my life; so honored and humbled to be His. Happy birthday, Sir! May there be many, many more...

I love You.

Yours always and all ways,

swan

On this date in:
1564
This is the generally accepted birthdate of the English poet and dramatist William Shakespeare. He died on the same date 52 years later.
1616
The Spanish writer Cervantes died in Madrid.
1789
President-elect George Washington and his wife moved into the first executive mansion, the Franklin House in New York City.
1791
James Buchanan, the 15th president of the United States, was born in Franklin County, Pa.
1896
The Vitascope system for projecting movies onto a screen was demonstrated in New York City.
1908
President Theodore Roosevelt signed an act creating the U.S. Army Reserve.
1940
About 200 people died in a dance-hall fire in Natchez, Miss.
1954
Hank Aaron of the Milwaukee Braves hit the first of his 755 major-league home runs in a game against the St. Louis Cardinals. (Aaron's career total is second only to Barry Bonds.)
1971
The Rolling Stones album "Sticky Fingers" was released.
1985
The Coca-Cola Co. announced it was changing its secret formula for Coke. (Negative public reaction forced the company to revert to the original version.)
1992
McDonald's opened its first restaurant in Beijing.
1993
Labor leader Cesar Chavez died at age 66.
1995
Sportscaster Howard Cosell died at age 77.
1998
James Earl Ray, who confessed to assassinating the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. in 1968 but later insisted he was framed, died at age 70.
2004
President George W. Bush eased sanctions against Libya in return for Moammar Gadhafi's giving up weapons of mass destruction.
2007
Boris Yeltsin, the first freely elected Russian president, died at age 76.
2007
Journalist and author David Halberstam died in a car crash at age 73.

Nothing New

Nothing is happening here outside of the day to day work of recovering from major surgery and learning an entirely new lifestyle.

We are tired but fine.

Daily, I see the stats declining, and I understand that our silence is sending our readership elsewhere looking for something interesting. I cannot help that. There is nothing to say just now, and I will not fill this space with fluff.

When life comes around and there is anything substantive to report, we'll be back. Until then, play nice.

swan

Snuggle

Healing from abdominal surgery is painful and limiting. There have been very few positions that Master finds comfortable for sitting, standing, or lying down. It has been impossible for Him to lie on His side.

Our customary sleeping habit is to sleep snuggled together. When He is well, He tends to pull me in close and tuck me tightly against His chest, under His chin. For me, that is a place of warmth, comfort, and safety -- the best place in all the world. It has not been possible to get there since the surgery.

That has left me feeling "out in the cold." I've managed everything. Advocated with doctors, nurses, and pharmacists. Coordinated the scheduling of medications and dressing changes. Kept track of grams of protein. Screened our diets for fats and sugars... And maintained my teaching work.

But the place where I go to recharge is to Him -- the security and safety of His care and His arms is, for me, a refuge. That hasn't been available, and I am beginning to feel the strain. I can tell that I am emotionally tender, inclined to be weepy, plagued by intense and dark dreaming.

This morning though, just after the alarm went off and I was lying there in the darkness gathering myself to start the day, He rolled toward me, onto His side, and gathered me in. We snuggled! I held my breath; I tried not to cry; I stayed there in the darkness far longer than I should have -- drinking in the pure and simple joy of being back in His arms.

Things are on the mend.

swan

Easter Laughs

It's pretty quiet these days.

Recuperation just takes time.

Here's a silly something to hopefully brighten your day...

swan

Solidifying

All those long, long days in the hospital were mostly grim -- surely not much fun.


Master was out of it, terribly ill, taking some significant pain medications... He was unable to get in and out of bed without assistance, unable to keep much food down, suffering from terrible diarrhea and unable to tend to His own toileting independently. He needed help to dress, help to shower, help with just about everything.


One of the things that I tried to do, on a fairly regular basis, was go into His email account and delete things so that His mailbox wouldn't start bouncing. He subscribes to a whole bunch of Yahoo Groups lists, and so He gets lots and lots and lots of emails every day. I knew that He could always go to the Group webpages and look back at any of those mails, and so I felt it was OK to just delete them all. On about the second or third day that I'd been doing that, I felt like He was coherent enough to understand what I was telling Him about it all, and so I explained what I'd been doing to Him.


At first, He said, "Oh, good. Thank you for taking care of that." Then, He got an ornery look in His eye, and He said, "Did you delete all the emails from my girlfriends?"


That stopped me for a half a beat until I realized that He was pulling my string. I got right in front of Him and told Him, "If there are girlfriends out there who want to come up here and clean up Your puke, and wipe Your ass, then I'm going to send them emails and tell them to get the hell down here right now!"


We had a good laugh together over that one. We did.


I think though that that little exchange is emblematic of a shift that I can feel happening for myself as we've come through this latest ordeal together. I am coming to understand the place in which I stand with all of this. I've proven to myself, that I will do what is needed -- anything that is needed, and never balk and never blink. I am not just playing; not just pretending. I am more than "up to" the task of being His, and if there was ever any doubt, then it has been banished in these last few weeks. Anyone who wants to go toe to toe for the position that I hold in His world -- just bring it.


All the "others" that have worried the crap out of me for years, have resolved themselves into bits of fluff. They'll continue to appear on the horizon every so often; asking Him for this and that -- wanting whatever it is that they think they want. They'll negotiate with Him, and He with them, for the fulfillment of mutual needs and desires. They'll come and go -- probably more and more as His energy and strength and health recover to levels we haven't seen in many, many years.


Whatever that amounts to, I HAVE this place. I am no longer in doubt about my capacities or my willingness or my value. I will defy anyone to measure up. The "others" can't do it. Not one in a thousand could do what I can do and have done in His house. I will not worry anymore about the pretty little playthings that float around the edges of my world. I've always been told that the solid foundation of polyamory and the "compersion" it requires is that partners have to feel emotionally secure. For me, finally, things have gotten very solid.

swan

Awwww...How Cute is That?

This morning, Master wanted to relax in bed and watch the Sunday morning talking heads. He was bemoaning the fact that the one drawback to our bed does not adjust up and down in the same way His hospital bed did, and wasn't that just a darned shame...

We have one of those TV backrest pillows. We don't ever use it for that purpose. It has become our "spanking pillow" and we keep it in the bedroom, so that it can be turned over on its face and I can lie over it for whatever He has in mind at the time. But, right now, there's no spanking going on. We're only two weeks post-op for Pete's sake!

So, I grabbed the pillow, and took it over to the side of the bed where He was resting and held it out and smiled sweetly. I figured it wasn't going to turn the bed into a magical, adjustable hospital bed, but it might make it more comfortable for Him to lie there and watch His shows.

He looked at that pillow and He looked at me, and He said, "awwww, Honey, I'd love to, but I just don't think I can." I kind of just stood there blinking stupidly for a couple of seconds, not quite getting what He was saying, and then it dawned on me -- "Oh no, I just meant You could lean on it for watching TV..."

We both got a laugh out of the silliness of the whole business. He got propped up and nice and comfy, and we went right on. It points to what we can't do just now, but it also reassures that we'll find our way back to it in time as the healing and recovering progresses. In the meantime, it is one of those moments that I'll keep close because it is just "cute."

swan

And YOU are?

This has been an interesting passage.

The somewhat unique circumstances of Master and T having their bariatric surgeries on the same day turned them into hospital celebrities. It seems that almost everyone around this place has heard the story of the couple who had their surgeries together. Especially on this floor, the medical staff all know about it, and they know that T went home and that Master had to come back in. They all believe that is the story: Husband in the hospital with post-surgical complications, and wife at home recovering from her own surgery. And, of course, we talk about her as "wife," and tell the story, and make it clear that there is a very real and very good and very loving marriage between the two of them.

And then there is me. I am here. Staying over night, leaving to go to school during the day, but back again each afternoon. There is no hiding the intimacy of our relatedness. It shows.

It is always intriguing to watch healthcare professionals as the confront our reality. Many, even most, simply choose to not acknowledge it. It really does seem that for the most part they believe that it isn't something that they need to know about, and so they simply look past it.

Every now and then, however, we run into someone who looks at it and gets curious and just cannot let it go. This morning, THAT person showed up. One of our roving gang of medical residents came into be part of the group that looks over the belly wounds and changes the dressings. He was particularly brash and arrogant seeming; a young person with more than just a little self-confidence. The rest of the crowd came in, said, "hi," and went on about their business, but this fellow looked at me, and looked at me, and looked at me again. Finally, he just got to it and asked the question, "Who are you? How are you related?"

Sometimes, when I get into that position with someone, I am gentle and try to finesse the situtation, but this morning, I just wasn't into making anyone's life easier. So, I looked right at him and said, "I am the other wife." That is an answer that tends to get people's attention, and he did sort of gasp and react visibly. Then he recovered himself and said to Master, "Wow! That's pretty cool! You'll have to tell me how You do that!"

And with that, I blew Master a kiss, left the resident gaggle to their work, and headed off to school.

swan

Things That I Worry About

People who know me fairly well come to understand that I have a very highly developed "WHAT IF" thought process. I am a worrier. My recollection is that I've done it all my life. I never really fully relax. I am forever projecting into the possible future and fussing about things that I cannot get a handle on.

I've gotten much better at that in these last years. I am far more able to simply let things go into Master's hands; do what it is that I am supposed to be doing; and simply trust that things will turn out as they ought to. Or perhaps I've just improved in my capacity for letting go of the things that I do not control.

Right now though, with things feeling so stressed, I am feeling the weight of the responsibility, and my worry reflex is kicking into high gear:

I worry that something will happen during the day while I'm at school, and I won't be there to help manage it.

I worry that T is home alone and that she is entirely without support.

I worry that she will overdo things and somehow set her own recovery back.

I worry about Master and His ability to keep being so courageous in the face of all the unexpected and unanticipated difficulty He is experiencing.

I worry about Master's father who is without much support from us at this time.

I worry about T's mother who is driving the distance from the town where she lives to be here with T every couple of days or so.

I worry about my job and their jobs as we struggle to hold this all together.

I worry about the costs of all of this. Hopefully insurance will pay MOST of it, but I cannot predict what amount we will actually owe when it is all over and done.

I worry about the friendships here that I am not tending to very well. I cannot seem to find the time, the energy, or the open computer access that I need to do that.

I worry that I will fall asleep and not wake up in time for something ... or not hear Him when He needs me ... or wreck the car.

I worry that I am worrying too much.

I worry that there is something that I should be worrying about that I haven't thought of yet.

Round and round and round and round...

swan