This one’s for Rick, who sent these great letters that i never answered, in my shame, as to, "why are you not writing, Niki?" Because Rick, i simply had too much to say. You’d think the opposite is true, but lemme tell you its been a helluva few months, and the more time that passed, the behinder i got, the less i could relevently say, the fewer words that would form in my mind.
writing was my gig, my love, my art. and as painful the admission is, that brain surgery effected my writing (and the right side weakness and speech to an ungly degree). its chopped down and removed the section that my creativity lives in.
i write this only now, in tribute.
first to Rick, because you touched me so very deeply.
and secondly because Mack, my beloved baby goose died unexectedly yesterday. no know cause. he was just a baby. i love him.
so here’s your update fellas, and it comes with love. but as you’ll notice, without flair, art, or passion in words. my surgeon is sorry, even though he promised he would not enter those eloquenst sections without intensive mapping… but when the mapping failed, he just went for the gusto anyhow.
ps: i have left jefferson hospital, i see tara morrison at fox chase now. what a difference! i am due to start upmc’s vaccine plus poly iclc–the low grade version. seems my new status is a greade 2! who knew
np\\
Mutterings Of A Madwoman 