Varicose roots 2

I was back in NYC Sunday morning, after getting stuck in the post-tunnel traffic jam caused a bunch of leg proficient half-milers. 

Inched my way from the tunnel to Central Park South to 5^th Ave to the 66^th St. causeway to get home.  

Slept a little. 

Then studied and wrote for my court session. 

The evidence was in my favor, as it was naturally, and I knew I had a case to present.

I woke at 6:AM to get ready for court. 

Ate cereal and fruit. Went over my notes. 

Made sure my briefcase was stocked. 

Hit the subway with a suit, sunglasses 

and Coldplay’s “Midnight” pumping through my earphones. 

Totally chill.  

Arrived and took a seat. Met a pro bono lawyer who had previously helped me. 

He convinced me to abandon the constructed script. I did.

Case dismissed with prejudice.

Got home via the 1 train and immediately began packing for a stay at the hospital,

 if not longer, at Mom and Dad’s house. 

Good thing I did that. 

I stayed over at the hospital after the successful Monday surgery 

into Tuesday, when Dad was released. 

Sleepless after almost three nights seeped in early in the PM that night. 

Tommy Xxxx. Jack Xxxx. 911. The neighbor calling. Flagging down the ambulance. The EMT team. 

Following the ambulance to the ER. Fearing a flat tire. Talking to the nurse. 

Bringing Dad home in the Eclipse. 

Total mental and physical exhaustion.