My stories run up and bite me in the leg — I respond by writing them down — everything that goes on during the bite. When I finish, the idea lets go and runs off. -Ray Bradbury, science-fiction writer (22 Aug 1920-2012)
Each day, I am a little better – less wobbly, less focused on fear, less obsessive about the possibility of more damage. My son went back to Japan Saturday, August 20. I am now alone in my home – the site of the hyponatramia collapse that threw me to the floor and left me unconscious for at least a day. The collapse could have been prevented. I was not diagnosed correctly during an Emergency Department visit two days earlier. That story is not just a dog-bite. It is a rabid dog-bite.
So, I write here – to release more fear into the world, to let go of isolation, to alchemize what feels, at moments, like a waking nightmare into nothing more than more life to be lived, more stories to be written down. As I wrote in my first post-accident Breakthrough, I have learned more about the American medical care system than I ever wanted to know. There are good people working in at. Too often they are handicapped by its structure, a structure that keeps profits flowing into the pockets of the medical and insurance corporation owners.
This new story in my life should not have to be written. But, it does. Please respond. Write us about the story clinging with its sharp teeth to your leg. Begin with this opening: My world has changed…or My world changed.
Here is Pam Lee’s response to last week’s BTW tip:
I’m on my back when I come to. How long have I been out? Well, it’s clearly still bright daylight, so I haven’t lost too much of the day. And I’m pretty sure I know that today is Wednesday, the month is August, and — sad to say — Trump is still President.
Where do I hurt? My left shoulder aches like the dickens, but lets see: I can move my legs and arms; I can wiggle my toes and fingers. There doesn’t seem to be any blood other than superficial scrapes. And I can see! There’s a blue sky and buttermilk clouds up there.
Now I know why climbers are advised not to go solo. A buddy would be a help now as I’m probably concussed, and it’s a long hike back to any kind of civilization. Don’t think the shoulder is dislocated or the pain would be excruciating, but it’s not going to want to hoist a heavy pack, so I guess it’ll have to be just water and trail mix for the return trip and hope the weather holds.