The Life of the Party

So you’re recovering from a pulmonary embolism. It’s been two and a half weeks. You can say about three sentences without coughing and gasping for air. So you go to a party.

And you spend the first two hours explaining the whole DVT/PE thing and how you could have DIED and how nobody seems to know WHY this happened or when it actually started. And you’re on a drug that works great as long as you don’t hit your head because if you do your skull will fill up with blood and you’ll DIE before they can find a neurosurgeon to cut your SKULL open and let all the red juice out.

Pass the lasagna please.

Then you get done with that party at 12:30 a.m. You drive 40 minutes to home and are in bed by 1:30.

You get up, shower, and drive back to a different house on the same road in the same neighborhood where you have brunch with a completely different set of people who ask you about the whole DVT/PE thing. And you explain it all again with 8 x 10 color glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one.

(I don’t actually have pictures of the DVT/PE thing but I got an awesome set of photos from my last colonoscopy. Not interested?)

At least I didn’t have to pick up the garbage.

I suppose this is going to go on for some time. I might as well get used to it.

As for me, I have to explain the whole thing to my eye doctor tomorrow morning because he’s going to ask why I’m on blood thinning medication.

So I’ll wait for it to come around on the guitar…