After I left the hospital, my pulmonologist, Dr. Matthew Prout, put a 5-year clock in my head. It has reached 00:00. I survived. Here’s to life — yours and mine.
No parent is ready to lose a child. What the hell are you supposed to say? “Like” a social media post. “Love” another photo. “Thoughts and prayers” sounds hollow when I cannot fathom the pain.
I went here, tried this, wandered over there, tried that — basically, took a walkabout to see if I still believed in me.
There are issues in these ironically-named United States — and we literally see the problem every day.
Jan. 31, 2014, I left Northside Hospital with a new lease on life. Before I returned to work, I wrote a note that was never mailed it. This is my closure moment — the end of a life chapter that changed me forever.