Friday, July 13th was the first day of the rest of my life.
Of course, that's true every day, but the difference is that I won't be spending any more mornings isolated in a pressurized acrylic tube urinating in my glasses case, or desperately trying to get Nurse Annamarie's* attention to turn the DVD on, because if I have to watch Nate for more than a few minutes again, I'll claw my eyes out. (Why was I urinating in my glasses case? Because the case where I put my glasses was, in fact, a urinal. When I slept, I usually put my glasses in the sterile and unused urinal they always sent in with me, to keep them safe. But I did take my glasses out of it before urinating.)
I almost had a nervous breakdown three days ago when one of the HBO docs suggested that I consult my ENT specialist about having more HBO treatments. So I guess there remains a theoretical possibility that someone might suggest I do even more HBO. I don't know if I would accept that advice, though. I was beginning to get mighty sick of that tube.
Meanwhile, for at least the next week or two, I will continue to snarf antibiotics every morning and night. Still a time suck, but less so. Let's just all hope I don't breed some new strain of superbacteria that will crawl out of my nose and destroy the world.