Peter Adam Salomon Keyboard & Camera:

On May 14, 1996 I wrote the following poem. It was written for the woman I had just started dating a little over a month before. Sure, we’d known each other for a little bit longer than that but it wasn’t officially dating until April 1996. When you think about, that’s a REALLY long time ago.

I wrote her other poems but this one, in particular, always stood out to her, meant more to her. So when we were planning our wedding, it only made sense to print it up on bookmarks. And as we spoke with the cake decorator about toppers there was really only one thing that came to mind: stones…

This past weekend, Anna has been running rings around New Orleans, trying to keep the family moving forward while I was in the hospital, trying to keep me fed after seeing the ‘bad-hollywood-sitcom-cafeteria’ food that was served for meals which required jumping through a number of hoops since I’m a picky eater on a good day, never mind zoned out of my head on drugs and misery. And she just kept moving, kept coming back to the hospital, to do for me what I was unable to do for myself (not all of which can really be shared in a family blog…). She never gave up, even when I could barely keep my eyes open and guarantee I wasn’t very entertaining company. She never stopped worrying about the boys and me more than about herself.

Other than shaving first thing after arriving home (which I did) there really isn’t much I can do right to thank my wife for all she has done and continues to do for me and our kids. So, this poem will have to serve as a down-payment on a lifetime of thanks…

Two Stones

two stones came to rest today
upon the riverbank…

they began their journey lonely
and struggled to survive…
the water carried them and
shaped their thoughts
taught them and brought them together
if only to teach each other
and the river was pleased….

the water supported them
watched and learned from them…

two stones came to rest today
upon the riverbank…
the river smiled
murmuring over them
and continued on its way…

Usually I’d post on Tuesday about updates on either HENRY FRANKS or one of my other WIPs or maybe just a little blurb about a book I like. Today’s going to be a little bit different.

I’ve been feeling under the weather for a while and it took a turn for the terrible late last week. Coughing so much I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t keep food down, couldn’t sit still…it was miserable. I fought my way through Friday thinking Saturday had to be better, which it was, though it still wasn’t a walk in the park or anything. There had been a couple of times Friday, especially in the middle of the night when I couldn’t even lie down, never mind fall asleep, that I seriously considered calling 911. Here’s a friendly piece of advice: If there’s ever a moment when you’re thinking about calling 911? CALL 911!

So, I battled through Saturday and Sunday was even a little bit better. I was still operating on cat naps of about 30 minutes at a time so I was desperately exhausted, couldn’t stop coughing and kept picking up the phone in the middle of the night to call 911. But I didn’t call. I just kept thinking it had to get better. Doesn’t it?

Monday morning I was coughing so hard that I could barely speak, I couldn’t draw in enough air to form words. I looked like I was having an asthma attack (I do not have asthma) with how difficult it was to breathe.

Enough. I gave up. This cough, whatever it was, wins…

I drove to an Urgent Care facility as I do not have health insurance or a doctor here in New Orleans. They started examining me before I even finished filling out the forms, once they realized I couldn’t breathe. At first they thought it was pneumonia. So they took a chest X-Ray…at which point pneumonia became the good possible diagnoses. With copies of the X-rays and a printout with the words ‘Conjestive Heart Failure’ on it, they sent me to the ER.

I’ve been in the hospital ever since, up until about an hour ago.

The good news is: I’m doing ok. They drained NINE pounds of fluid off my heart and lungs and I feel better than I have in ages. I’ll be on a cocktail of drugs, dietary restrictions, and exercise regimens for the rest of my life but 1) I’m ok with that, 2) I LOVE most of what the new diet consists of and 3) I exercise 7 days a week anyway, just going to have to be more serious and supervised about it (an exercycle for 15 miles a day will no longer cut it).

The bad news: My heart is currently operating at about 25% efficiency and it will take slavish devotion to doctor’s orders, pill therapies, and everything else to get that back up to the 40-60% it should be. The good news on that is: it’s doable. And not all that difficult either. Just takes dedication and resolve and I have that in spades.

So, I’m home now, and it’s GREAT to be back here…the friends we have made here in New Orleans have really shone through over the last couple of days helping my wife handle the logistics of the 3 boys and the husband in the hospital. We’re going to miss you all when we leave, so much!

My wife has been missing work to spend her time in the hospital with me…her class made me handmade Get Well Cards that my middle child, Joshua, handed to me when he saw me.

It is, indeed, very sweet to be home…