Discharge day, Oct. 21, 1991 / Credit: Mom
The sun glaring through the curtains.
I squinted at the clock. I was afraid I’d slept through my alarm. It’s set so loud it could wake up the half the neighbourhood. Meanwhile, I can sleep through the blasting sound of random bells.
I stretched, smiling, and said, “Today is mine.” I talk to myself, just for context.
I enjoyed my breakfast then savored a hot cup of decaf coffee before it turned into decaf ice coffee.
I glanced at the time. “I’m still in surgery,” I said, and I giggled.
But on October 18, 1991, no one was giggling while I having brain surgery.
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