My neurology, and that of my car, made a partial recovery since last I wrote with no more intervention than a good night's rest. Neither of us are a hundred percent, but we're both pretty high-mileage at this point. The goal isn't perfect health, only to muster the will to continue.
Last night I tried to sleep in the car in the hospital parking lot under the sound of heavy rain after a concert during which I sweat through all of my clothes. An older guy dancing alone in a costumed crowd.
Later I'm awakened at intervals to talk on the phone with a psychotic college freshman - just 17 and away from his parents for the first time, trying to open himself to the college experience; to see a homeless man with blackened fingers wrapped in soiled gauze who only cries and cannot tell me anything I need to know in order to help him; to sort through a platoon of inebriated students - sleeping, crying, looking at me expectantly or desperately on stretchers in the hall. None are frolicking.
It's 4 AM on Halloween, and the Attending asks if I wouldn't mind taking a few drunk kids with me on my way out. "Only the weirdos are out at this time of night, he says. "And that's us, buddy."
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