Misserable

It will be hard to make you feel sorry for me as I tell you about my experience in my hospital room crowded with friends, family, and loved ones for four days straight, but I am going to do my best. As many of you already know, I was rushed to hospital in a dark ambulance early last Friday morning upon my mother's alert dog's notifying my parents of a problem: My body had seized-up in the wee hours of the morning as result of a brain metastasis. This resulted in the fracturing of my left shoulder. I'm told this was quite painful for me, but I have no memory of it.

I don't mean to make light of this difficult situation. I was, and am, in some serious trouble. Hours after arriving, another seizure hit. This was more than a little disturbing to those around. However, my memory begins foggily with the awareness of the presence of Mother, Father, and several friends, and perhaps sister at bedside. I was pleasantly doped-up and highly oxygenated. The comfort levels of the coming days varied, and the bright yellow "Fall Risk" arm band secured to my wrist indicated how I felt upon standing-up during the first few days. The low-lights of a hospital stay do not need to be reinforced!

Saturday I was informed by my niece and nephew that I had several early birthday presents to be delivered immediately. The first was a rubber chicken and four Sharpie pens -- this because I was fitted with a useless soft sling, rather than a hard cast for my hurt shoulder. You guessed it! I needed something upon which to collect signatures of my doctors, nurses, aides, family, and friends. The various delighted responses to my dictate to "Sign that chicken over there. . . " were priceless. Each joyously added a special signature. Doctor B's signature stands distinctly on the belly.

Additionally, my room was maxed-out with balloons, plants, drawings, posters, flowers, sweets. . . I cannot name everything. I wish I could thank you all individually. I would also thank those who brought nothing. You are all valuable to me, not just your gifts.

I'm home now, as are the balloons, etc. My parents are marvelousely taking care of me and stuffing me with more protien and calories than I've ever seen in my life. Unfortunately, I will not be driving for many a month. . .

There is much more to write, and I acknowledge that this report lacks completeness, seriousness, humor, and many other things that require two working hands to include. Unfortunately, I only have one for the time. I will fill in more details in future postings. However, my right hand is tired, and it is now being given a much needed rest.