Unwelcome Complication

His wife managed to pull the car to a stop in the nearest yard. He had insisted on driving, though he wasn't feeling well. She let him, as it was her last bargaining chip to go to the hospital in the first place. But now that he was slumped over the wheel, it was up to her to get help.
She called 911, and after trying to get him out of the car, she reluctantly took the dispatchers advice to leave him and run to a neighbor. She climbed the short hill to the house, shouting for help, when she was surprised by a little dog, unfriendly and defensive. It clamped down on her leg and refused to let go. Her cries for help were compounded now and her only comfort came in the distant whine of sirens.
Relieved but still attempting to kick the dog off, she made her way back to her husband. The dog gave up, leaving blood running into her sock from an angry wound. Two EMT's grabbed her husband and layed him onto a stretcher. They started CPR and she couldn't watch. She was guided to the front seat of the ambulance to wait. She doesn't know what happened behind her, busying herself with calling their daughter. She wasn't sure if she should have, as she is a three hour flight away, but she didn't know what else to do.
Her husband was intubated, cannulated, and given drugs and cpr. By the time they reached the hospital, he was breathing on his own again. In fact, he pulled his breathing tube out within 10 minutes of their arrival. She was led to another room, though, for stitiches and a rabies shot and to give her story to police.
How complicated things had gotten. Her daughter was heading to the airport, her husband to the cath lab. She got to say goodbye as he was transfered, and would later get to tell him the story of how she saved his life. Perhaps he will let her drive them home.

All of those things

I've been on an accidental hiatus.  From blogging, from biking, from caring, from life.  I don't know why.  That's the problem with these things. They sneak up on me and then suddenly I find myself on the couch for the 30th day in a row (I exaggerate, but only a bit).  This type of thing usually only happens in winter, the old SAD, but, for me, not even perfect summer days could lift my spirits.
But, then things got better.  That's the solution with these things, happiness sneaks back in and plants itself right back into my little brain.  And now, every day, I feel like I am waking up from a long sickness.  I guess that's a good thing.  

Sometimes I can't help but take on the problems of the world.  I can't help but find my job unfufilling, my life lonely, and television depressingly bad.  Then, I realize that I am trying so hard to find my inspiration, direction, and purpose that I am forgetting to live.  I know that sounds painfully trite, but I think it's true.

In these times the blog suffers, the fashion suffers, the waistline suffers, and the bike is truly a beautiful sculpture; only for looking. Okay, if you have to dust your bike, that really should be alarming.

But, if Richard Simmons can cry on the Ellen show, then certainly we are all entitled to a little time in the blue.

The one thing that pulls us back from the brink, in any form it can be found, is hope.  And, I've got a little.