Member-only story
That Easter Rabbit Had No Sense of Humor
Today I awakened in my own bed for the first time since that scary ambulance ride on Easter.
I’m still weaker than I understood. I am holding a ceramic cup I got from the potter when on one of my book tours at a rez near Red Wing, Minnesota. Every so often I spill some coffee because the cup has just gotten too heavy.
What I want to tell you is not about me except in the sense I bring news from where you don’t get lots of reports.
On Easter, I was taken to an isolation ward because my symptoms all matched an infection from this beast the entire world is fighting. The outcome was that I had a serious infection but not that infection.
What I want to report back to you is what went through my mind on that ride because your family or you might face the same thing.
It was so much, so much, so much worse than my (correct) diagnosis of cancer a couple of years ago.
The difference was that when I had cancer every one of my kids and most of my older grandkids visited me in the hospital. I heard from old friends and some old enemies. Before long, I was viewing cancer from within a cocoon of love and support that made me feel that my life, if it was about to end, counted for something.
