Home for the Holidays
What I didn't know when I started my last entry - yes, nearly a year ago - is that my brain really was being fried, not just by the activity I described but also by an infection brewing in my right knee, helped along by an improperly installed screw in the rod placed in the tibia to heal the break I gave it falling out my wheelchair the previous spring.
I'm big on anniversaries, remember the icky ones far more often than the celebratory ones. I came here to write one down: the day after Thanksgiving, 2008, the infection that started in my knee and spread through my body landed me in the hospital for a week and in a nursing home for nearly another three weeks while I received three doses a day of intravenous juice caustic enough to burn the infection out of me.
I nearly died. I didn't. This year I am celebrating Thanksgiving with a particular and grateful joy. I will be home for the holidays.
I'm big on anniversaries, remember the icky ones far more often than the celebratory ones. I came here to write one down: the day after Thanksgiving, 2008, the infection that started in my knee and spread through my body landed me in the hospital for a week and in a nursing home for nearly another three weeks while I received three doses a day of intravenous juice caustic enough to burn the infection out of me.
I nearly died. I didn't. This year I am celebrating Thanksgiving with a particular and grateful joy. I will be home for the holidays.