Today is my twelfth annual thirty-seventh birthday. Which means I’m forty-eight.
Festivities got under way yesterday with spending much of the day (and evening) helping an injured friend through the medical system.
The best part was the reaction you get when you’re a large man walking into the ER with small woman suffering from multiple fractures and contusions. No, really, I didn’t do this to her. No, really.
So, no writing yesterday for good and obvious reasons, and severe neglect of the birthday oriented email that began flooding in.
Today is my actual birthday. Celebrations will include an hour with my therapist, lunch with
Tomorrow is more out of town friend stuff, plus
So, yeah. My birthday has morphed into a six-day celebration observed through hospital visits, hot tubbing and visitors from half a dozen states.
Most of all, thanks to my friend cancer, I’m quite surprised to still be alive.