As many have realised, I’ve not had much time to blog in the last couple of years.
But I have a little enforced downtime, so I thought I’d post to keep more distant friends in the loop.
So where am I? There’s a clue in my attire.
On the 16th of April 2011, I’m ten floors above the Euston Rd, a resident of an NHS hospital.
Oddly this isn’t a bad thing, because the alternative is not to be here at all.
A while ago I made some poor lifestyle choices, and then a worse one when. I started to have a medical issue that could easily have killed me. I’ve just paid some of the due on those actions; I’ve spent a year turning myself into the paragon of male lifestyle virtue and ditched 90lbs of fat in the process. That was all to spend 5 hours on the operating table, and two days on morphine, but live.
This picture is me at surgery +3, and while I’ve got some scars that trumps anything I that famous Jaws scene, and a few excess external connectors, compared with others in my ward this is small beer.
I wasn’t looking for fallback, just to tell those who don’t see me often that I’m fine. Onwards, and upwards.
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