Tuesday June 28th, 2011 - Libertyville, IL Ok smart ass, now what’s the plan? I just got word they’re going to liberate my carcass from the hospital later this evening, and I have to go back to the real world - ready or not. I have no idea exactly what I’m going to be doing, but I think my road dog days are over. I thought that a few years ago when I landed my job at The Loop in Chicago, but that’s yet another of my lifetime of false alarms and almost was scenarios. ‘Plan B’ was out the window twenty years ago. I’m so far past it in the alphabet, I’m almost back to ‘Plan A’. Come to think of it, I never really had a Plan A. I thought if I was a funny comic, it all would work out by itself. Then I got into radio, and I thought the same thing. I’m funny, I’ll have a job as long as I want one. Wrong on two counts. Here I sit with my education. What the hell do I do now, walk into a Wendy’s and ask for a job? I’m sure I could get one, but I’d be miserable before my first (low) paycheck showed up. That kind of work is just not my thing, with no offense to all those who do it. I was born to be an entertainer. If I had to get a job making soup or washing cars, I don’t think I could do it for long. I’ll have to think of something though, because I’m in a real spot right now. I have a tiny wad of savings put away, but that’s going to disappear faster than Madonna’s virginity after all the dust settles from this nightmare. I need to get myself healed up and then start working. I need to make wise choices and surround myself with quality people. I also need to get better about trusting those people and letting them do what they do. I feel like I’m starting my life all over again, but it’s from a position nobody wants. This is a gigantic challenge, and there’s no turning back. I can’t just turn off the diabetes and ‘do over‘. It’s here now. I also intend to exercise like my life depends on it, because this time it does. I can’t just eat what I want anymore, even though I’d gotten used to it from a lifetime of self abuse. It happens to a lot of people, and I know I’m not the only one. This was a big wake up call. But now that I’m up, where do I go to work? I’ve got all kinds of half baked ideas and a couple that actually work, like comedy classes and the ‘Schlitz Happened!’ show but now they are no longer fun hobbies. I may have to depend on one or both to hack out a living. I won’t miss the whole hospital experience, but the people have gone over and above in how nicely they treated me. Condell is filled with sweet people who really do care about a patient as a person and not a number. I felt well cared for the whole time, and I’m grateful for everyone from the doctors to the nurses to the techs to the lady who washed my floor. Jerry Agar is home for a week from Toronto, and he has graciously allowed me to stay a few days in his lower level where there’s a quiet bed with a shower in the bathroom that’s exactly what I need to tend to my wounds. I’ll be able to rest and hopefully get going on a full recovery. Thanks to everyone at the hospital, but it’s time to reload and try life again.
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