A week ago, immediately after writing a guest blog suggesting that Zell Miller convert from snake-in-the-grass to openly GOP, an astonishingly severe pain struck my right flank.
Forty-two minutes later, the ambulance delivered me to the Alhambara Hospital. Shortly afterward, for 82 seconds that I will never remember and will never forget, I flatlined.
My breathing stopped and my heart quit beating. No angels, no white lights, no tunnels full of ancestors, no escorts of ravens and bears. Just gone, and then back.
I awoke beneath an oxygen mask and a nurse screaming: "Are you all right?" Back from the almost dead, what could I say? "Where am I?"
To shorten a very long story, it turns out I was attacked by a pulmonary embolism. Or, since there are two, emboli. Or, if you detest Latinisms, blood clots.
Since last Tuesday, I've had four days in the ICU, two days in a recovery ward, two EKGs, five chest X-rays, two CT scans, a ventilation-perfusion video of my lungs, an ultrasound of my heart, an ultrasound of my leg veins, a jolt of the defibrillation paddles, a blood test every six hours, two doctors, seventeen nurses, two roommates, and plenty of mostly uneaten helpings of hospital "food."
I was twice-over lucky.
First, I'm alive.
Thirty percent of people with undiagnosed embolisms learn about their condition when they suddenly drop dead. That searing pain and the prompt response I got from the 911 EMT squad helped me dodge a bullet.
Second, unlike 45 million or so Americans, I am insured. From the ambulance ride to the blood thinner, from the salisbury steak to the spherometer used to rebuild my right lung's stamina, everything cost a bundle. Maybe a total of $20,000.
I'm home now. Every day - until my blood clotting enzymes settle at a ratio preferred by my doctors - I will inject Lovinox into the skin of my belly and take Coumadin, a blood thinner in pill form. I'll be gradually working back into my exercise routine and trying to keep my little textile and dagger business going.
Naturally, I'll be watching the campaign, whether it's the Administration's latest effort to control damage from one of its Foster-O'Neill-Clarke-Kay defectors, or the latest Fox News enhancement of GOP talking points. And, of course, I'll be checking out which GOP official is being ripped a new one by my pals at daily Kos, I won't be guest-blogging or posting comments for a month or two.
If, when I recover, Markos still believes I have something to offer, I'll be back.
Meanwhile, y'all keep up the good fight. Illegitimi non carborundum