The last time I saw Scott he was still in the hospital, in pain. He looked like himself, but very uncomfortable. Today, for the first time in almost a month I saw him again. He looked awful and I told him so. I kept saying, "You look terrible." Yeah, no tact or subtlety. No, "I'm happy to see looking so well and up and around." He was always thin, but now he is gaunt. He's been inside and has lost most of his healthy color and he is still in pain. He says standing is the hardest and he was holding himself stiffly. Poor guy.
His ribs are a little caved in on the right side and he has lost muscle tone and his arms are so thin without muscles. But as his mother and I spoke this evening, he is very lucky to be alive and I am very glad he will recover. I did feel bad about telling him how awful he looked so called tonight to apologize. He thinks in a few weeks he might go to the health club to start light spinning to get back some muscle tone and stamina. That would be good. Ten minutes on a stationary bike is like an hour for me, an hour is like ten minutes for him.
I have always thought he was one of the best looking men I have ever known, and no one looks better in a tux. But a month of pain and suffering has aged him. I hope the ice cream and pizza will start to put some padding on those rib and fill out his face. I hope that when the pain leaves for good, he will smile and have happy eyes once again.
So here's to Scott! On the road to recovery and beyond.
Jude says: Poor Scotty! Is he staying with someone who can help him?
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