Santana - Abraxas

I had brain surgery. Yes. I did. Just out of nowhere. I mean, I had this thing growing inside my head for what could have been many years, over 30 years? No one could tell you. After the first surgery all I could say was that anything could happen to anyone at any time. All this means is that you should bless the new moon at the earliest possible time and that you should pray the afternoon prayer at the earliest possible time, neither of these things have I been able to put into practice. My wife claims that I was emotionally dulled out by the first surgery, I am skeptical, though the world has changed since the second surgery. Two for the price of one. Why? Infection. One of the doctors involved is infamous for losing pens. Heavy antibiotics. Bleh.

When I was lying in the hospital after that second surgery, loading up on the drugs, I couldn't move, I couldn't look at food, I had no energy, no intake, no output. People kept calling and visiting and I must have looked and sounded awful, I know that the folks back in the New Country were panicking, and Baruch Hashem, what I was going through was a temporary stage, but I understood a few things from that. You hear uplifting stories of people who fight debilitating diseases and their treatments with a will to live. Sitting at home with a headache this is not hard to imagine. However, two surgeries in two months, first of all, waking up in the ICU twice (it is familiar already the second time), but there is no time between the experiences. Coming in to the hospital in an ambulance twice in six weeks, how can a person pick himself up off the matt? Knocked out and knocked out again. And then comes the treatment which saps the last of a person's strength, and if that keeps on coming, every week, every month, even every few months, time is compacted, every treatment takes 110% of a person's strength and that is highly unlikely to be there.