i was tired of waiting

12:30 AM

So here we are then - one week, twenty needles and a whole lot of antibiotics later. Thank you all so very very much for the good vibes, kind words and well wishes - in the comments, by email, and elsewhere on the blogosphere (I'm looking at you, Keith). I can't tell you how my heart swelled when someone brought me a comment print-out last Wednesday, or when my acheing bones finally returned to the computer and I glanced at my email today. Your kindness and love is overwhelming; I'll do my best to return it if you ever need it. :)

Last Sunday I fell out of a canoe as I was getting into it. This is where I make excuses and try to defend my canoeing ability - it was round-bottomed! it was full of stuff! it was tied to the dock in a peculiar place! - but really what it comes down to is that there was an uh accident, I tumbled into the water, and as I scrambled to right the canoe and save my friend Lindsay from wet, the edge of the boat swung back and gashed me in the leg. It was a small but deep wound in the shin. We drove to the nearest hospital where I was x-rayed, tetanused and stitched up. The rest of the day was fine - I played Solar Quest and ate roast vegetables and experienced very little pain.

On Monday we drove back to Ottawa. And within a couple hours of being home, I fell into a fever. We drove to the hospital ("4 and a half hour wait, sir") but after hearing my symptoms was admitted immediately. What followed was an exhausting whirlwind day of swabs, injections, blood-pulls, an MRI, and at least five doctors. Until Wednesday, they feared that I was suffering from necrotizing fasciitis. Yes, uh, the "flesh-eating disease." And no, that's not a good way to start one's week.

But in the end my infection turned out to merely be a rare and frustratingly uppity breed of lake bacteria, easily squashed with the help of tons and tons of IV antibiotics. Fear of contagion, misdiagnosis or unexpected developments resulted in a seven day hospital stay: I got home this afternoon. Furthermore, I'm on this weird IV pump thing, which will be dosing me with antibiotics for another ten days.

Overall though, I'm totally fine. I've got a bunch of needle-pricks in my arms, I'm missing some hair where the nurses tore away tape, and my leg aches and lacks mobility; but frankly, those are petty worries. I have my health, my sanity; I'm alert, happy, and good-to-go. The hospital food wasn't much, but the Ontario health system treated me remarkably well. The nurses at the Ottawa Civic were all kind souls, and the doctors knew their shit. And better yet - twas all for free! Thankyou tax-payers! :)

Now then; what did I miss? The Beta Band broke up! Dizzee Rascal leaked! But what else? Let me know! Comment, email or dropload. Thank-you!

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Can - "Mighty Girl". If I'm going to burst back out of the ether, what better way to do it than with this trundling, bleating, yearning, unstoppable tune. I won't claim that I would have known it, if Aurelien hadn't sent it my way. But now I do, and it's been noodling around my brain for well over a month. This is an epic jam, a pressing blue flame, electric guitar and drums that wind and weave, cresting and dissolving, all in the service of that piano line - all so that the 7:30 return is rich as a band of silver. Listen to it go! Listen to it climb! It's Rocky coming over the hill, the kids and their wagons, a sun that sets and rises and sets again, it's me bursting out of the hospital, a white gown fluttering round my bare bum. [from a Peel Session]

The Trews - "Tired of Waiting". I watched a lot of TV in the hospital. Much more TV than usual, and I got more channels. Noteworthy among these was MuchMusic - the Canadian MTV, long absent from my own abode. Since I was a little worried about theft, I didn't have my iPod or CDs with me - MuchMusic was my only source of song. So I caught up on all the new pop ("Dip It Low"'s first five seconds are fantastic, and then I'm bored; dig the Jadakiss; like the first half of the K-Os single). I gotta say, though, I'm pretty disappointed with all the second-rate pop-punk on the Canadian charts. Billy Talent oughta sit down.

And yet all was redeemed with this song by Niagara's The Trews (#20). In a lot of ways, it's a run of the mill midtempo rock single: guitars poking at each other, an over-and-over chorus that rises into a rousing group chant. But for me the song rises into the sublime with Colin MacDonald's outstanding vocals. At first he sounds like a ruffled Ontario Michael Stipe, or maybe Adam Duritz with his belt loosened. But the way MacDonald plays with his vocals, approaching the silly chorus from different sides, twisting the lyrics round in his hands - it's wonderful. He pulls real golden soul out of those five words, stretches the yearning like taffy. It's almost disappointing when the crowd sidesteps on board, when the backup vocals rise up and cloudcover his sky. Sure, there's some majesty in those rolling white clouds, but I liked it when his voice was stabbing down in clear bands of yellow light, crying and asking and pushing on like Van Morrison on the Liffey. [buy]