It was a mad dash getting ready to leave our house for a month during the kitchen remodel. My wife did most of the work emptying the kitchen cabinets, carefully packing at first, followed by filling our living room with food and cooking utensils. We’re ready to be featured in an episode of Cops with viewers at home commenting, “how can people live like that?”
Before leaving for the rented beach house, the Universe punished me for my good fortune. Blood from my lungs. I told the dang doctors in the hospital that I had some blood coming up, but they kept telling me it was from the sinus surgery. Wrong. 15 days in the hospital and I get out for over a week and I have bleeding. Argh. Moments like that test me the most, as just when I think I’m in the clear for a period of time, I find out I’m not.
Hello to two weeks of cipro. Crossing my fingers it does the trick.
I’m writing this post in the house that is close enough to the ocean to hear the waves crashing on the beach. It’s pretty awesome. Today after work the three of us and two dogs walked the couple hundred feet to the sand. Again, awesome.
I did, however, under dress. It’s July, 100 degrees where we normally live, and yet, 45 minutes away here at the beach it’s 65 to 70 – and cold at times. I need to drive home and get some warm clothes, like a jacket to protect me against the wind at the beach, and my Denver Bronco pajamas to keep me warm in the morning. And though it’s overcast most of the time, it’s as good as I dreamed it would be.
Yes, I am still the luckiest guy in the world.