Don’t try this at home.

It has been eight days since my third spinal surgery. A neck brace restricts movement to that authorized by my surgeon, who apparently would prefer that I be catatonic at this juncture. I watch raindrops etch their slow but deliberate paths down the windowpane. Every two hours, rain or shine, day and night, I am rotated to prevent the formation of bedsores. Drugs are injected and inserted in every conceivable pathway and manner. There seems to be a good reason for all these compounds but I have lost track. The chemicals of primary interest to me are the pain meds. I track these closely, not wanting to be cheated out of a single dose.

The searing boredom of this existence is punctuated by intervention from the best medical care available anywhere in the world. Delivered by a team of compassionate providers. I am indeed fortunate to have access to such healthcare and reiterate my gratitude to those who helped facilitate it. I am also indebted to a large network of friends and family who continue to support and encourage me to maintain a level of strength and commitment that I would not be capable of achieving on my own. Your participation in my journey, great and small, has been a critical component of whatever it is that I may become.

I expect to be transferred back to SB in a few days for focused rehabilitation. Until then, the raindrops continue to weave their tortuous paths . . .