First, an administrative note. I received a few emails from folks who were a little freaked out by the animated sword-swallowing image, as well as some of the medical content. I don't want to make anyone sick while reading this blog, so from now on, if I have content that might be considered graphic (particularly medical stuff), I'll post a link to it so you can click through if you're feeling brave. I will not post anything that I'd consider in poor taste, nor anything especially graphic, but I will try to keep the blog free of unpleasant visual surprises.
That said, here's the update on my condition. I survived Soup Weekend 2008, and after several liters of tomato soup and chicken broth, plus uncounted cups of water and lemonade, I am happy to report that my esophagus is apparently not a porous material, as nothing leaked out of me. In fact, after the first bowl of warm soup, my throat feels almost entirely normal. There was a slight stiff spot in the back of my throat where the injury had been, but by today (Monday), that sensation has vanished.
As you might imagine, I was filled with trepidation when I had that first glass of water. I didn't try it alone; I actually drove to Page's apartment, invited up a friend, and the two of them watched me while I drank. The fear, of course, was that I'd swallow a gulp of water and a moment later it'd pour out of the side of my neck as I started gurgling horribly, and then I'd have to be driven to the hospital and the whole hospital affair would repeat. Fortunately, that wasn't the case. My throat was as tight and stiff as you'd expect after a month of disuse, but everything worked out.
About that administrative note: If you're curious, I posted a picture of the drains and valves that I keep mentioning on a separate site. The picture is a little gross, so fair warning.
I feel very good, overall. I am still a little weak from inaction, but I've been able to lug my supplies around without problem, and can drive without limitation. Not all is perfect, though. I have a slightly sore throat, which I'll ask Dr. Smith about tomorrow, and the valves and drains on the side of my neck continue to be a source of discomfort. They stick out about an inch from my body, and although usually hidden and protected by gauze padding, they tend to ache a great deal. This is because they are being gradually removed by Dr. Smith, as he pulls a little more tubing out of me and replaces the valves each time we meet, and because I tend to roll over and sleep on my sutured side. I don't know how I manage the latter, since the area around the valves is sore to the touch.
Jumping backwards - prior to Friday's announcement, the big highlight was my return to the Palace of Wonders. The Palace, of course, was the scene of my injury.
Page and I had kept up with our friends from the bar and DC performance scene during my hospitalization, and it worked out that the April Weirdo Show - again, the monthly variety event at which I was slated to perform in March - was being hosted this past Thursday, just a few days after my release. The Show always attracts a good crowd, and since the lineup tends to be packed, half the crowd is comprised of that night's performers, or friends of a performer. I knew Professor Sprocket, the MC who had visited me in the hospital, would be there along with other friends, and the chances were good that I'd know the bartenders that night as well. Unfortunately, I still couldn't drink, so I'd have to pass the time with a glass of ice instead of a soda or a beer, but that was fine.
I was nervous to return for a few reasons. Firstly, because I'd suffered trauam there, and the embarrassment of having to withdraw from a show. I felt my gut tighten as I stood in Page's apartment before we left. How would I feel when I saw that stage again? Secondly, there was not just the issue of the place, but the people. Seeing friends was the important thing, but how would they see me?
Before my accident, I'd heard stories of what happened to performers who'd incurred serious injury on the job. Those who recovered returned to hugs and well-wishes from fans and fellow performers alike, but a few faced a kind of chill from spooked colleagues and fans. All of us are daredevils, to varying extents: the appeal and challenge of most of our acts lies in the potential for physical harm, no matter how remote or overstated the actual risk might be. Swords can cut, fire can consume, nails can pierce. Although a little nick or scrape here and there can be an advantage, since we're working hard to convince the audience that it's not witnessing an illusion, neither I nor anyone else in our unusual brand of show business wants to be really harmed. Unfortunately, we're not exempt from the same rules of chance or fate that govern everyone's lives, and occasionally - as in my case - an accident does occur that doesn't resolve in a few minutes, or with the speedy application of a Band-Aid. My accident was easy for me to deal with, since I was too preoccupied with surviving and staying comfortable to brood on the larger implications, but my friends and family didn't have that luxury. Sometimes watching is the hardest task, since you may be required to consider that despite one's best precautions, chance, or fate, or God if you prefer, may intervene to alter your life forever - or end it sooner than you planned.
I don't mean to sound maudlin, since I'm not. I'm supremely glad to be alive, and give credit where it's due to my friends and family, and the superior medical staff of my hospital. Others might not be so philosophical, though, and just as some people recoil from graphic photos of medical injuries, how would people react to me? I was a walking reminder of mortality, if one thought it through, and the last thing I wanted was to dull people's enjoyment and appreciation of my peculiar craft by showing up torn and thin, alive but visibly scarred.
It was appropriate, then, that the first two people I should meet upon walking back through the doors of the Palace for the first time in a month were the two other performers in the area who'd suffered the same injury as I. Charon (pronounced like Karen) Henning and Alexander Kensington were the first sword-swallowers I ever met. Indeed, Charon inspired me to take up this mad pastime; she's the performer who rebuffed my first inquiries about the craft, as I described in my earlier entry, 'The Palace.' Charon had endured the same slashed esophagus I had, although her injury occurred during a taping for a radio segment; she didn't even have an audience to witness her near-death experience! Alex had a similar injury and suffered massive internal bleeding, but lived to see another day. We all have the same scars, long slashes down the front of our throats. As I stood in the entranceway, sunlight streaming down upon my neck as I saw friendly faces push towards me from the back of the bar, it felt like the best company I could be in.
It was great to be back. Charon and Alex had spent most of the past months on tour, so I rarely saw them under any circumstances. We traded tales of our struggles, and Charon mentioned she'd passed my name along to Dan Meyer, president of the Sword Swallowers Association International (SSAI). Sword swallowers are rare, and individuals with esophageal perforations doubly so, so I may be in touch with him to discuss my experience and add to the shared knowledge about explaining these types of injuries to triage personnel and strategies for dealing with the recovery process. I may still join the SSAI, as I'd hoped to do after the Palace show. I've paid my dues, after all.
After meeting with Charon and Alex, I greeted Professor Sprocket, the MC and my supporter in the hospital, and Karen Mitchell, Sprocket's partner in producing the Weirdo Show and a great email correspondent of mine. It was fantastic to see them again and support their show. Other friends present included Malibu and Silver Raven, two fantastic fire performers who appear regularly at the Palace, and dancer Bambi Galore, who works for Page on occasion and produces her own line of headwear for performers.
The rest of the evening was simply fun. I was a conspicuous sight, with my bandaged neck and wrapped arm dangling with IV plugs. Page and I met up with a crowd of gawkers who showed up hoping to see sword-swallowers. They would be disappointed if they expected to catch an act, but I enjoyed a few minutes of minor celebrity as I regaled the bar with tales of my horrific injury and struggle to survive. Sprocket greeted me from the stage mid-show, which validated me, both to myself and to the audience. One of the audience members asked for my number; she's a photographer and wants to shoot some pictures of me in costume with my scars. I could use some publicity shots.
The rest of the week held other highlights after the joyous return to a normal social life. I spent days sipping drinks and tasting soups, happy to have an alternative to the feed bag for nutrition. Page and I made peanut-butter cup milkshakes last night, which was heavenly. I'll have to make more of those... I don't care if I put all that lost weight back on!
The last bit of big news is that I finally procured my late birthday gift to myself. I usually buy myself something nice for my birthday, and since I hadn't spent any money in the hospital, I had a little extra to spend this year. I've decided to take a little hiatus from performing, or skydiving, or wrestling bears or anything else remotely dangerous (besides the usual risk of living in Washington, DC), so I chose something relatively innocuous:
That is a picture of my new Nikon D40 digital SLR camera. I have a little point-and-shoot digital camera which is fine for basic shots outdoors and for recording VHS-quality video, but I wanted something with more control and better overall image quality. This camera came well-recommended by some photo enthusiasts I know, and I got a great deal on it from Photocraft. If you're in the Northern Virginia area and need photo equipment, I recommend them based on their prices and very friendly and knowledgeable staff. I bought the Nikon body and a Tamron 18-250 lens, which I think will be a great everyday lens that will serve me well until I need something more specialized.
Unfortunately, it's been raining every day since I bought the camera, so I haven't had a chance to get outside yet and take pictures with my new toy. All of my indoor shots are of cats, predictably, which I won't bore you with. Hopefully, I'll be able to visit the Arboretum soon and shoot the bonsai for practice.
Well, that's it for tonight - I'll post more tomorrow after my big meeting with Dr. Smith. Hopefully my mouth will be full of food when I post next.
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