Happy Birthday
One year ago yesterday, my mom left ICU. She left behind the cranial halo (or whatever it's called.)
I breathed easier. I began to relax and leave behind my worries over her survival of the surgery.
The Rottweiler in me came out, though. I'm officially the family's advocate in all things hospital and medical. Lord help the nurses and doctors and staff.
Happy birthday, mom. You were given a new chance at life. And I, for one, am grateful beyond measure for your renewed health and regained strength. You're my best friend, my confidante, my rock, my source of hope, my reminder that I "can do it, Duffy Moon." You're the Stuff. I love you.
I just realized that August sucks. Next year, I'm skipping August. Crap, even if nothing shitty happens, it'll be too hot to breath.
August, what did I ever do to you? Why must you bring terrible, painful, tear-filled days?
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