When geese fly overhead, And the groundhog goes to bed, When the trees have turned to gold And the nights are crisp and cold, Then it's time for drawing in, Time for Fall to begin.
Not quite there yet, but it’s coming.
Between 0830 on September 2nd, and 3 pm on September 5th, I experienced what I think may be described as a “personal event”.
When I first got home from hospital, I must have been high on a combination of anesthesia and morphine and I immediately began to scrawl pages of notes.
As if I was afraid I might forget some of the details.
So delighted was I, that I had managed to talk my way into an early release, I was wound up like a top.
Then I suddenly ran out of steam.
On my pad, however, I had noted no less than 18 aspects of the experience that I felt deserved to be mentioned. There’s enough material to keep me going till Christmas.
My working title:
GOING THROUGH THE GRINDER, US HEALTHCARE 2021.
It’s not an unreasonable title, but I wouldn’t want anyone to get the idea that I in any way wish to criticize our overburdened doctors and nurses, for whom I have only praise and sympathy.
The story is mostly dark, but it had it’s humorous moments, not that I’d wish to relive them.
Methinks I shall work out an abbreviated version of the story, but before I kick that off, I ask that you insert another person into the tale, so it isn’t all about me.
You see, I don’t want sympathy. I am so grateful that people care, but it’s over and mostly done and I simply want to tell the story for what it’s worth.
A human experience that occurs, many thousand-fold throughout the USA, every day…
That beautiful wide open sky you see. Nice part of the world you’re living in.
Cambridge, NY. Yes, I love the open sky.
How about an alternative working title of “The bits I left behind.” Carolyn?
Actually, I was thinking about how many bits I’ve left scattered here and there!