I knew something was wrong. I did go to my doctor. I went to the hospital when she told me to. I guess that's because I remember the look in her eye and if I didn't convince her I was gonna take a cab from the her office to the hospital she would've called an ambulance.
It was hard to accept that I had a serious condition. Fatigue and pain
But it took me 135 days to get home again. During that time I learned a lot. I already knew that being physically fit was a good preparation for being hit by a bus or getting a rare disease. I also learned that having access smart doctors is very important. Somewhere along the line I was told that about 10% of the people who walked into a doctor's office with my symptoms would die. I was glad I heard that after I got better and did not die. I just looked it up. In the United States people who make it to the doctor and are told they have GBS have a 2.8% chance of dying. I guess if you include the people who don't make it to the doctor or are not in the United States it could be 10%.
Sweet, tastes like life. |
One of my favorite books is The Great Bridge. Every time I cross see the bridge I think of the final paragraph. A 100-year-old woman was interviewed in 1969. She was at a party because men will more walking on the moon. When she was asked what she thought of the celebration she said something like, this ain't nothing you should've been here when they open the Brooklyn Bridge.
Yeah, I'm alive. And I reaffirmed that yesterday, by taking a 10 minute bus ride with my son. We got off the block from the base of the Brooklyn Bridge and we walked to The City. Then we snuck into the Woolworth building because the sign said we want allowed. Then we walked down to Zuccotty Park (Occupy Wall Street), and enjoyed some chicken and rice.
Yep, I'm alive. So when my son had a sneak into tourist attractions. That's life.
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