Today mark exactly 4 years since my pulmonary embolism. Four extra years. I can't really think of it any other way except as extra years. Any time that I have had past that night is a gift. It really brings perspective to my life. Things may seem grim, and life might seem hard, but damn, I could have been dead. So, as I sit sequestered in my home far from the virus covered masses, and everything that I had planned to do for the next two years has been cancelled, and the current presidential race seems to be making us collectively less intelligent as a nation, and I'm wrapped up in a blanket because our heat doesn't work, all I can keep thinking about is how good it is to be alive, right about now.
So, I guess all I can ask of people is that we love each other on this cold, miserable fall day, because the alternative is to be dead. And I think being alive is good, because if you're dead it can't get any better.
