Over a month ago now, my friend Larry called from hospital to say his final goodbyes.
"I didn't think I'd last more than a day or two then, the pain was so bad," he related last night. "It's hard to believe I'm still here."
Larry really is a Super-man.
Along with hydromorphone, he now has a pain patch and takes methadone. He shared that he had "good "day racking up an astounding 2,200 steps by pushing his walker about or sometimes going solo by clinging to the handrails on the walls outside his room.
"I'm sure getting out in the hall helps with the boredom," I suggest.
"You know, I'm actually managing that. My daughter came today for a visit and I have a roommate now. That helps with the feelings of isolation. And just coping with my back pain takes up a lot of my day."
I hear him groaning in discomfort as he shifts in bed.
I tell him about my time in Ottawa visiting family these days, their backyard rink, my grandchildren's on-line learning experiences, our outdoor games of hide and seek. Larry's a good listener and he seems to enjoy all the details of my stories.
I'm really not sure if I believe in purgatory, that celestial vestibule where we supposedly go to get cleaned up before heaven.
But if indeed there is one, I know that Larry won't need it. He's earned his heavenly speed pass weeks ago.
Must sign off for now. Time to go for a long walk.
Yes, Larry continues to inspire!
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