This time with sirens...

I went back to hospital last Thursday as the now well-known Holly has told you.

As she said, it was not a good time. In fact, I died briefly while in the ER. Had Holly, my neighbor Ernie (who called 911, tried to comfort me until he paramedics came and was a constant presences at the hospital) and the medics known of my instructions regarding "heroic measures" I would now be, as Bill Handel likes to say, "completely dead." Instead, after being on a ventilator, intubated and virtually comatose between Thursday and Sunday, I'm still here.

And I'm going to rewrite the parameters for allowable emergency care speedy-speedy, Jim.

Words can't express my appreciation for all your responses, concern and good wishes. They were unexpected; when Holly walked into my room at the ICU with a thick sheaf of papers with your messages, I frankly could not read all of them at once, so moving was the experience.

Naturally, I am incredibly grateful to the doctors and nurses who made the right choices and saved my sorry ass, doing such an effective job that I was released this morning and am now home.

Most of all, though, I feel the direct I-owe-my-life-to-them connection with Ernie and Holly. People just don't get any better than that.

Much more to say. Can't say it now. Later, probably.