St. Peter Don’t You Call Me

I returned from lunch to the message light blinking on the phone on my desk. The transplant coordinator from the Big City Hospital had called to let me know that my MELD was at 18. In her words, she says that we have to get me “a little bit sicker”. In other words, we need…

It’s always been my intention to write something for my journal every day. It doesn’t matter what it’s about, so long as it’s written. There have been periods of time when I’ve been able to accomplish that. There have been other periods of time when I fail to update on weekends, or because of illness,…

Today was my annual transplant check up at Big City Hospital. I walked the distance between the train station and the hospital, perhaps a dozen city blocks. My legs were burning by the time I got to the hospital. Being a stay-at-home slug has done nothing for my physique. The walk was even worse back…

Decision by indecision

I’m off-center this morning. I’ve been this way since writing class last night. The class is not what I expected. It’s not what I wanted. I have to decide if it’s what I need, though. It was billed as “writing that first novel”. And, whatever else I might say, it is that. The class is…