In the cafeteria at the Mt. Hood Community Hospital, where B, is having part two of his procedure for the bad pancreas. Good news: his liver isn't as damaged as the doctor suspected, so the procedure won't be quite as complex. He's getting a shot in the pancreas, something he'll have to do every several months forever, so he needs to find a place closer to home to get it done, probably Spokane or Lewiston.
I have a few hours to kill, hence bringing the AlphaSmart. See if I can get some scriptwriting done.
B. has been telling me his drinking stories. He was much worse off than I imangined, which of course is par for the course in this particular extracurricular vice. No one knows how bad it is until it gets completely unmanageable. We all have our stories of subterfuge.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment