Hi, Floydy. I am so sorry to hear about your ear pain. It sounds perfectly miserable 
. Since the suction isn’t working, you could have a middle ear infection. I hope the nurse considers this possibility.
Roxy It’s coincidental you mentioned sitting by the fire. The buildings here are connected by long, glass tunnels that make possible nearly two-mile walks from point to point. The new cancer center has a massive fireplace for the patients to enjoy, but during the weekends the hospital is deserted, so the vast lounge feels like a grand hotel lobby. We plan to go there today to escape to the institutional feel of this place for a while. Somehow I don’t think we can quite capture the vast beauty of your part of the world, but we can pretend!
OGF, as things are settling down and we look forward to a few more weeks of incarceration…I mean, admission :-p…I am finally able to break out for a run on most days.
Leaving the hospital is like peeling off layers of heavy clothing. I move past the doctors and nurses on the floor, down to the lobby where patients being dismissed swim against the upstream current of those being admitted. Past the din of orderlies transporting patients, visitors purchasing flowers, and valets managing car keys and belongings, utopia awaits.
Around the imposing library with the arched windows that span the entire facade, between the stone walls of the towering engineering and science buildings, my feet move fast and faster. My mind wanders to general envy of sitting in a classroom again, soaking up great ideas and pondering all the astounding ways of nature and the world, but for now, I am just happy to be - moving.
Like a checklist before a flight, I do a quick assessment of joints and bone, and know that this will be a good run. In no time, that two-mile mark where my breathing settles, my lungs stop complaining, and everything comes together in a synchronistic, familiar rhythm kicks in.
All those thoughts of struggle and resolution slip away with the distraction of the novel scene of unfamiliar administration buildings of slate and limestone, sleepy winter gardens, and the occasional statue of long-forgotten statesmen.
Four miles become five, and in the last five, so desperately wanting to call it a day, I round the corner and see the pretty glass dome that sits atop the children’s hospital. My heart sinks at the sight of the hustle and bustle, the grim faces, and the challenges that lie just inside. Spying a barely visible sidewalk ahead, I make the choice to delay my work and responsibilities just a little longer. Like a school girl skipping class, I’m suddenly elated and emancipated for one final, blissful mile. Six miles and then some.
I’m ready to go back in and fight the good fight. 
