Not a particularly happy word. The happy part is that the pneumothorax, in the lung of the man who loves me, is small. It should heal itself, the doctor says. Meanwhile, he's pretty much confined to his hospital bed. I have confined myself to my bed in solidarity.
And doesn't the Glendale train station look stunning at night?
2 comments:
Rest. Both of you. So that the true work of healing and tending can begin.
Yes. Beautiful picture.
I'm sorry to hear this and will continue to send all my positive thoughts your way and his. And love, too.
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