It's a Kind of a Funny Thing

INTRODUCING: It's a Kind of a Funny Thing: That happened on the road to... (addiction to transplant to recovery). What happens when a Wimpy Caregiver meets a Broken-Down-Blues-Drummer? ~Funny things happen! - Then all hell breaks loose - on the way... to his liver transplant! It all started when Paul's world collided with Nancy's. She was a happily married, stay-at-home-gardener, who spent most...
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INTRODUCING:

It's a Kind of a Funny Thing:
That happened on the road to...
(addiction to transplant to recovery).

What happens when a Wimpy Caregiver meets
a Broken-Down-Blues-Drummer?

~Funny things happen! - Then all hell breaks
loose - on the way... to his liver transplant!

It all started when Paul's world collided with
Nancy's. She was a happily married, stay-at-home-gardener, who spent most days walking on the beach with her husband, spending time with her family, and cultivating rare Plumeria-plant hybrids.

Little did she know that she would end up taking care of this brash Bronx blues-drummer - who was constantly knocking at death's door.

Nancy's happy routine would be turned upside-down, after unwittingly taking a "temporary" job as an unpaid caregiver to "Everybody's Favorite-Bottom-Feeder-Blues-Drummer".

With daily delivery of his near-death-dramas - Nancy's life would never be the same again...

Chapter 1: Introduction - In The Out door

There he was - one foot in, and one foot out of the bathroom door, mumbling incoherently, "LET ME IN." Only problem was... he was neither locked in, nor out - and he was missing his pants.

Yep. He was half-naked with his vital-parts hanging out... while his vital-signs were slipping away.

My life was like a "Five Alarm Fire"... Making matters worse, I had to put out Paul's random "fires" at an ever-increasing frequency! I was always off-balance, going to-and-fro - like a Chinese Fire Drill - frantically running around in circles.

Yep. It was a care-giver's worst nightmare... Paul was jabbering - frothing away, with white powder pill-crumbs caking his mouth. Then Paul's mouth stopped moving... Paul went limp and lapsed into unconsciousness.

I thought to myself: "He's really done it this time - surely he's done for!!"

There was no time to dress him - or wipe his face clean... The paramedic was barking orders, as I offered him a pair of sweat pants: "Sorry Lady! Move out of the way!! We have to get him to the hospital, before we lose him!!"

I watched helplessly, while they carried him away, as the ambulance sped away. The blaring sirens pierced the silence of my mind - tearing to shreds any sanity I had left.

Yep. All of the neighbors were gawking - not knowing who was being loaded up - or why. With no time to spare - I ran to get the bottle of the pills that he'd overdosed on - then high-tailed after the ambulance.

(Paul lived life on the edge - would he fall off the precipice?)