“He could sit here all night, pay his tab, and only the bartender and bouncer would speak to him. Neither would swear knowing Glitch, if pressed. His mind drifted between watching the band and nursing his drink. With two pungent tokes, his heart rate slowed as vape clouds mingled into dive bar haze. He wrapped himself in a comforting blanket of anonymity and bourbon. ”
Days one through three were rough. Managing pain, resting, and recovering mobility is a bit of work. Thankfully, I have a great support group. I am grateful and lucky.
Don’t know how I’ll ever repay them, but I hope to find a way.
Count the staples
Recovery means feeling like glass
Trembling at the fear of breaking
From every falling drop of rain
Fresh with the painful truths
Of how brittle we feel
When it’s time to heal
Recover
This’ll be the first in a series of progress pictures over the next few years.