I didn’t want to write about it until I had a better understanding of it. It occurred in mid-July of this year, but I didn’t get a diagnosis for several days afterward — a CT Scan confirmed what I thought, On that July morning I awoke to find I had wet my bed. As I tried to stand I realized my balance had left me, my face was gray and drawn, and my speech slurred (the last symptoms according to Gail). As the past couple of months I’ve discovered more concerning things: I’ve become a writer who cannot muster enough concentration of read, my computer typing has become a jumbled mess, and my memory has begun to catch me in short intervals. Add to it all, I’m in urgent need of back surgery.
Fortunately, I have one novel still on my computer because I doubt if there will be another. I can be content with 17 novels and 3 Children’s books — who wouln’t be? If I can get my ‘ducks in a row’ I hope to publish my story titled simply ‘Joe’. I had wanted to go through it one more time as new ideas have popped up and slipped away, but I fear I’d only mess things up. I’ll go out with the most unique story I’ve told so far . . . maybe even my best. I had a nice book-signing of ‘The Final Chapter’ on Saturday. So delighted to have so many devoted readers.
So far, 2021 has been a trial. This week we will put my brother John’s ashes in the Hoyt Lakes cemetery, followed by a wake service at Dougherty’s for my friend, Pastor Rod Toumi. As a footnote to John and Rod, I have lost seven other dear friends so far this year. Eternal rest to each of them.