It’s nice not to be alone during these COVID times.
(Left to right) My sister Pamela and my brother Michael. I am so thankful for them. I was returning to Phelps Hospital, where I was for two weeks on the acute in-patient rehabilitation floor. My stroke was mid-April. Perched in my room on the 4th floor, I could watch the seasons change as the grass, flowers and trees turned from spring to summer. Then during follow-up therapies, I watched them go from fall to winter. Today, the scenery is once again on the cusp of bloom. I was back to have my post-stroke, 1-year anniversary. The entrance to Phelps has “P” in black and “helps” in red. Phelps Helps . The boxwood were trimmed just below the word “Emergency.” (Once when I was leaving in June, the flowers had grown to nearly cover the word. I thought, “How can you have a sign with the word ‘Emergency’ covered? What if there was an EMERGENCY?) Today, I left enough time so that I co...
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