Three years ago tonight (almost to the minute, as I write), in this very chair, the icy fingers of Death grabbed a baseball bat, aimed at the back of my head and swung for the fences. When I woke up three weeks later in ICU in the Cleveland Clinic, I was told I'd had a major stroke: an aneurysm at the base of my brain that nearly killed me. Later, I spent 4 weeks in rehab; My time in bed and my injury had weakened my to the point that I not only couldn't walk, but I couldn't get myself in and out of a wheelchair.
This is apropo of nothing really, I just thought I'd share, I came out of the experience with much less in medical bills than you would expect, enough titanium in my skull to build a bicycle, a pathological fear of headaches, and a faith in Christianity that had been difficult for me to grasp prior to the incident. I think that, if there was a design behind the whole thing, that last may have been the purpose. I don't really talk about it much, because it doesn't come up much in everyday coversation, but as it's kind of a special day for me, and it informs a number of the opinions I have on any number of topics relevant to this blog, I thought I'd share.
Arik
