HP Sauce

Well, Dr. Best called. Or rather her nurses did. They didn't get clear margins on the surgery, which means there may be some rogue bad cells still there. So, I've got to go back in October for more legs-in-the-stirrups good times.

Which is funny – as in funny-peculiar not funny-haha – because I haven't written a word about HPV lately. Perhaps you've noticed.

Part of the reason why I dropped the HPV bloggage like a hot potato after my surgery was because I didn't think it was good to keep thinking about it. My woo woo beliefs include catchphrases like "What you think about, you bring about," so thinking about HPV/cervical junk didn't really jive with my, like, aura.

So, I quit cold turkey. Only it appears this story hasn't reached its heartwarming conclusion.

Also interesting is that my HPV homegirls are still emailing. Just last night, I received an email inviting me to get in on the ground floor of a sort of HPV hotline so other women don't have to feel completely in the dark about what's happening to them.

Only I wasn't going to do it at all because I was dropping this whole topic like a hot potato. But apparently, this subject won't stay dead. I may be dropping it, but it isn't dropping me.

Regardless. I'm not going to get my knickers in a twist about these rogue cells or the fact that the world wants me to help out with the HPV cause. (Well, to be honest, I probably will get my knickers in a twist about the bad cells. It's what I do. I'm great at ground zero of the crisis and then two days later when my spazzy little mind gets a hold of the worst case scenario, it's game over and I become a sobbing mess. Sigh. Part of my charm, I guess.)

What I'm supposed to do will be revealed to me. Over the past few days, things have been coming clear in the Department of Central Creativity. Creative goals are taking shape, from reworking the screenplay to writing a novel for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month...I'll tell you all about it soon). I'm planning a month-long creative challenge for myself in August, which I'm really excited about. And I'm on the verge of developing a year-long project about committing to my creativity and living as an artist. It's tentatively called An Artist For One Year. I just pulled this out of my butt. I'm not in love with the reference to John Irving's 'A Widow For One Year,' but whatever, call it a working title.

The point is this: I got some weird news today. But it's in the context of a moment where I feel that delicious sense of possibility again. The uncertainty is back, but I feel energized by it, not daunted. Let's not get daunted, shall we?