EDITOR'S NOTE: Thomas McAvoy returns today to explain why he's been absent in recent weeks.
Good lord, there's a right passel of misfortune rainin' down on my misfortunate head.
To begin with, probably the worst thing which can befall a man happened to me on April 15, 2015, when my dear and darling wife Patti was taken from this earth. Here it's almost two years now and there's not a moment doesn't reverberate with memories of her, and if I live 10 or 20 years more, it'll continue to be so.
Folks who know me well know that I have a vascular problem with my legs which raises the very devil with me. Some months back, I tried to rise from the seat, only to find the right side of my body would not work - no right leg, no right arm. Now my 28-year-old daughter was sleeping only a room away, but I didn't want to bother her. I was figuring that this wacky set of circumstances never happened before in 68 years, it surely is going away. Never before did the word "stroke" occur to me, but I truly do wish it did. Eventually, following several attempts at rising on my own, I ultimately did manage to stand on my own by grasping a door handle. I found the fact that I could not stand without the aid of the door handle a bit troubling, but my main focus at the time was simply to stand unassisted.
At that point I determined to search for other handholds and I allowed myself to release the handle It was a poor decision, since a second later, I saw the door swinging away. When I grabbed for it, I missed it. As I fell I could tell I was hitting a plastic and metal bench, so I turned my face away, which impacted my head about 21/2 inches down, hard.
From Katie's room, I heard a tentative "Dad," followed by two more loud and worried queries. By the time she opened the door I was sitting up and when she asked "if I was all right." I looked into her face and said "Mufrxuy" followed by a similar reply. Katie helped me to my feet and got me to the bed. I was immediately surrounded by five linebacker-sized paramedics who checked me out and had me strapped onto a gurney, tucked me into a "hurry-up wagon" and sped me to Sturdy.
The first two days I wisely kept my counsel and silently played nothing but word games in my head. Finally, the third day, my vocabulary was between 25 and 50 words. The next day, it increased by 50 words and finally by the time a week was up, I was close to up to speed on where I should be. When the week was up, I was good to go home.
The arm and the leg still give me trouble, but it's livable. The words and their usage are still coming.
I guess you could say that I saved my real corker for the last. My left leg is bandaged ankle to knee with a highly medicated preparation. I was home alone one afternoon and the bandage needed to be changed. There was a knot in the middle which was proving damn near impossible to untie. My candle on the floor was just too close, and as I moved the bandage nearer for me to see, the entire mess just exploded into flame. I tried banging it out with my hands, but it just continued burning. After about a five-second burn, I spied a bottle of water and doused the bandage with it, but the damage was done. They were wide gaping holes burned into the skin everywhere you looked.
Just attempting to walk was excruciating and it's truly a new dimension in pain just to try and get in anywhere. Everything is healing with time, though, and I just can't wait for tomorrow, just to see what the coming day will bring.
Thomas McAvoy writes Tuesdays for The Sun Chronicle. Contact him at [email protected].