The Last Day

Thanks to everyone who came out to RFD tonight, for the mini-celebration. I took my last pill over dinner.
Thanks to everyone who helped me and offered kind words or entertainment while I was less-than-optimal.
Thanks to Bryan and Sarah for rides to and from the hospital, and waiting for ridiculous hours.
Thanks to Shannon for bringing me groceries.
Thanks to whoever it was that brought me cat food and cash for the taxi-rides. (Hey… I was probably hopped up on Percocet when you came by).
Thanks to Drew for bringing me said Percocet.
Thanks to Percocet for making it possible for me to change the cat’s litter box.
I don’t know what to say about the illness itself. There was incredible discomfort. But no giant shooting pains like some overly melodramatic movie. Just an inability to do things. Like… walk or shower. But I got to make doctors nervous. Really cool, because so often it’s the other way around.
But it happened, it was found, treated, and went away. And other than an increased likelihood of it happening again, and a big hole in my bank account, it leaves no sign it was here.
The treatment was much worse than the disease. But I survived that just as well, if slightly slower. I learned my body knows more than the doctors do. And nobody really knows shit about how to react to embolisms. But like every other trial in my life, I came through stronger than I started, and even more motivated. And I was able to conquer a little bit of that fear every person living alone has, of being incapacitated and helpless. And anyone with back injuries or severe pain has my unending sympathy. I don’t know if I ever felt greater joy and freedom than when I was once again able to walk around the block.
And now I hope… I plan… I’ll try… to stop talking about it. I feel like it’s the only thing of interest in my life for… ever, now. I don’t want next year’s “year in pictures” to consist of lots and lots of pill bottles and bored looking people.