I’m not really sure about the direction of this piece.

I know that I do need to write about this.

From the moment I knew something was wrong in 2020 on the line at Fat Clemenza’s to now, the day before my almost 8th month in physical therapy, I need to give this a place to exist outside of myself.

From the MS hug to Lehermitte’s to falling down to leaving my job to losing my favorite patient to leaving my other job and changing careers again and having to worry about dying in my sleep and not being able to get off my own toilet and my poor father wanting me to move back home and throwing my ex out of the hospital and learning to trust myself again…

It may not live inside me anymore.

Here we go.