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A tale of two bus rides, two hospitals and the upside of ‘ifs’

read more…: A tale of two bus rides, two hospitals and the upside of ‘ifs’

It’s seven a.m., November 8, 2023. Soon, I’ll board a bus to Boston to take the T and a bus to West Roxbury. There, I’ll walk into the VA hospital to be chemically knocked out. A surgical team will put an instrument down my throat. That mechanism will, I believe, snip off tiny bits of the nodule in my lung and, perhaps, a sample of nearby lymph nodes. These pieces of me—and how strange to think of a cancer as part of ME—will be sent off to mystics and sorcerers in the mountains—sorry, I mean pathologists in a lab. They’ll read my entrails and divine my future. What a funny world, huh?

Larissa, a Fairy Tale of Sorts – Part 1: Too smart and charming for our own good

read more…: Larissa, a Fairy Tale of Sorts – Part 1: Too smart and charming for our own good

Larissa will find another job. She’s insightful and gifted and attractive, and that’s what her references will say. They won’t say she’s a drunk. They won’t want to damage her opportunities because “She’s so great when she’s not drinking. If it weren’t for that . . .” Unfortunately, those ellipses never end without change, and that change doesn’t seem to come without work on our part.

By the Light of Burning Tires I Watched My Life Go By

read more…: By the Light of Burning Tires I Watched My Life Go By

As I write this, it was a week ago that I spent my last night in Pittsburg, five miles from the Canadian border, alone outside the Tiny White Box. Wanting to mark the occasion, I built a small campfire in a fire pit as the sun was going down. There, I meditated on what I’ve lived in the last nine months, reviewed the writing I’ve done (and left undone) and thought about the next stage of my journey.

A free-association scream (900 or so words of id-driven rage at addiction poured onto the page without editing or re-reading)

read more…: A free-association scream (900 or so words of id-driven rage at addiction poured onto the page without editing or re-reading)

Readers know I’m not a God guy at all, not real interested in whether the Big Joker in the Sky is paying attention. Still, I pray 50 or 75 times a day, saying the same prayer over and over and over: “Thank you, God.” For today, I’m going to amend that prayer to “Thank you, God, and please help Larissa find a way to want to find a path to sobriety.”

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Header photo by Stonewall Photography