In my youth I proclaimed that I was saving my virginity for David Bowie, and in my late twenties after my near fatal accident, I named the donor bone the doctors put in my right arm, Ziggy Stardust, after my love for him.
To say that David Bowie is a hero of mine, would be a grave understatement of his influence on my life.
David Bowie has always been my hero, an inspiration and a muse for living my life - an example of how one person in all their weirdness and greatness can change the face of music, creativity, sexuality, love, and self-expression for all time, just by being oneself.
David Bowie, a truly amazing human being. To live as fully expressed as he is a tribute to living that we can all aspire to. WE CAN BE HEROES, if even just for one day.
An excerpt of the story of how my right arm became .... Ziggy Stardust
Going into surgery, it was determined that performing 3 surgeries at once: one on my left wrist, another on my right arm, and then another on my hip bone that would be sacrificed in order to be extracted to mend my right arm bone back together. 3 Surgeries would be too much for my body to handle.
I had been told about the possibility of using donor bone to fuse my right arm bones back together, and I had been okay with that in theory. On the day of my surgery, however, naked in the prep room, with the dressing gown opened to the front I wasn't so cool with it. I remember thinking, "This is not like you see in the movies", my dressing gown had to be open to the front, NOT the back, in case of cardiac arrest... I thought, I'm having surgeries on my arms, why would I go into cardiac arrest and why do I have to be naked?
The nurse explained I had to be naked in case anything were to go wrong. They don't want to have to waste time cutting through my bra and underwear if they need to resuscitate me.
I'm cold and I have a hair net on and I'm in a dressing gown with a tie at the neck and no real front coverage and my Mom is in the prep room with me when they tell me they've decided to go ahead with the procedure of inserting donor mass into my right arm.
I remember being extremely upset about this. What will it mean for me to have someone else's DNA in my body?!? I was questioning the spiritual logistics of it all.
Someone who has died, their living matter will now be inserted into my right arm, and their life force will help to fuse my crushed and disintegrated bones back together.
That means that the dead person's bone is still alive and my bones are alive and now that person will be alive inside of me?
Will that person be a part of me?
My Mom says to me,
"You know Chloë, everything in the Universe is made up of the same substance.
We're all just molecules of chemicals of the same stuff.
We're all just stardust in the end."
This struck me in my state.
We're all just made up of stardust.
"Ok then, I'll call him Ziggy STARDUST."
And this somehow seemed to make sense and comforted me, because I love David Bowie. When I was younger I proclaimed I was saving my virginity for him. Most young girls at that time were in love with New Kids on the Block, not me. I had this strange sexual obsession and fixation on David Bowie. I was in love with him and he had always been a muse.
Throughout my life, there would be times that I would stop and fantasize about David Bowie. I would imagine him sitting legs crossed in pure eccentricity next to me, we'd review my life's ambition and he'd counsel me to be less scared and more rebellious.
His message to me would always be I could never be too weird, strange, or self-expressive, and no matter what my shame was, I wasn't to get hung up on it. "Move on, your mistakes make you, you."
What Would David Bowie DO, became a lense I would view my life through. Our fantasy sessions would end with him saying, "Hot tramp I love you so" and he'd sing Rebel Rebel to me.
They wheeled me into the operating room and I was splayed out, both arms extended on cutting boards and my front parts and legs on another board.
Two surgery teams would be attending to me at the same time, one for each arm. You are supposed to go under immediately before they start talking shop... but the anesthesiologist couldn't fix my veins that day, they tried both arms, and so I'm fully conscious as the doctors are talking about my surgery prep....
I remember my lead doctor asking are you ok with this? "Sorry we're talking about the details."
And I was splayed naked with both arms outstretched on the surgery prep boards listening to them talk about the how and what and I started convulsing and shaking.
Yes, I'm fine. Just please put me under as soon as possible.
Shaking, convulsing, naked, fear, vulnerability.
And then finally, the anesthesiologist found a vein in my foot, she or he had been poking around and finally they asked me to count backwards... and that was it.
ZIGGY STARDUST has become a part of me. And sometimes when I'm not listening to my inner guidance, or the fear has gotten too loud, Ziggy speaks up, and tells me to remember my heroes and have courage.
MORE ABOUT MY ACCIDENT: