...and don't ever, no matter how much I beg... don't ever feed me after midnight.

My most wonderful Fara (everybody say a quick thank you to God for Fara, Dr. Bogaev's nurse!) is faxing a release this afternoon to The Scooter Store, informing them that they may have me back on Monday, if they don't run me around the track a buncha times or make me lift anything heavy!

I love Fara! I can't wait to get back to my people! However, if I wake up Monday morning with one of those head-split open Gremlin headaches, Fara says I'm not allowed to go. Just TRY not to get any headaches this weekend, she said. You got it. I'll do my best.

... Because on Monday, I'm getting SEVENTY-FIVE STAPLES OUT OF MY HEAD AND A HAIRCUT. Any suggestions?

I consistently remember dates/birthdays/anniversaries, that mold lives. What changes you, changes others when you tell them your story...

Alan Jackson sang, "Where Were You?" on the Today Show this morning, and I was immediately transported to a cool September morning, five years ago in Atlantic City. Five years already? Can it have been? Well, let's see, if I was twenty-five when Magic automated nights and I decided to move to the ocean in a weekend...

Once again, I felt the breeze on my face from the calendar pages whipping backwards. I see the lush trees on Route Nine clearly. Caramel coffee helps jog the memory.

For some reason, I had a bunch of cash on me at that time. It may have been that I was doing a LOTTA lotta remotes right around then. I didn't know what the World Trade Center WAS. I stood, quietly, naively, while my coworkers in traffic and sales cried, mesmerized by a 13" TV in the office, and called everyone they knew. The WTC is the center of the world, I did not know. I am so sorry.

Then I walked into the control room. More planes fell. The Pentagon really got me, being a soldier's daughter. What is going on, I asked. Hell is breaking loose, came the deadpan reply.

Thirteen hours later, I walked out, onto an eerily quiet street. I really believed I should keep my assets liquid, because I thought after that day we would be at war, and martial law would be taking over, on our front steps.

And I read somewhere the quote, "If the world was ending in five minutes, every phone booth would be filled with someone calling to say, "I love you."

P.S. I really need to say, if it were not for my mom's side of my family out there, in Jersey, I'd have gone bonkers that year. Now I know I have cousins. Now I know from where I get this hair. My eyes are Morrelle (French), and my hair is from the Vellioses (Greek).

I had a VERY good day today. A Dr. Bogaev visit always has that effect, because as soon as you leave his office, you know you're not in grave danger, and you remember that there is hope.

Then, Erik thought the scenic, Hill Country-not-interstate route home would be best for me, considering my itsy bitsy bout of cabin fever. But since I got up early and showered this morning and put on deoderant and real clothes and had to sign some paperwork at work anyway...

...we stopped at work! And I really meant to keep a low profile- you know, get-in, get-out. Erik calls it, "shopping like a man." But do you know how hard that is to DO if you had brain surgery last MONDAY and here it is THURSDAY and there are PEOPLE WHO NEED TO BE HUGGED?? And I didn't even hug them all, even though being there made me feel good and happy and I felt well enough to hug everybody! I loved on those who saw me, and stopped in on my team quick, but tried not to impede the process too much. By the third floor, I began to tire.

Shoplikeaman, shoplikeaman. After the work visit, we picked up the new prescription. And I got the first solid four-hour block of sleep since I was released from METH HOSP.

I am SO blessed, like I keep telling you. I knew, going into this, that I wanted to do everything I could to make it go faster than the last one, seven years ago. I practically leaped off the horrible hospital mattress the instant that first PT came around. Yes! Get me out there! Let's go WALKIN'! And I had to do that with a walker the first few times, but my snazzy taste in zippy socks was THE STAR of NINTH SOUTH, neuro ward.

Erik has used many fasteners to attach the guaze, to keep the Neosporin happy - duct tape, medical tape, packing tape, band-aids, and a package of small nails that my parents bought while here (thanks!). Erik is an excellent nurse, I have the best neurosurgeon there is anywhere, and today we're home. Whew. This one went pretty quick.

When you have the best people taking care of you, Brain Surgery becomes almost EASY.

Gonna go rinse some of this Halloween-y dried blood outta my hair now. I'm finally scheduled to shower today!

I am so blessed, with being so close to a World Class surgeon, and I was thinking about Erik. I am very happy my parents came down for this (thanks, again!)

Now that I'm home, my dog has to decide if she still loves me or if she feels she was abandoned for a week.