writing

Twelve years ago, I was hospitalized for seventeen days with a bout of severe pneumonia. The organism living in my lungs had grown steadily over weeks, taking up more and more space and inviting fluid to slosh where air should have been. By early fall of that year I was gasping for breath as I struggled to climb the stairs out of the New York City subway, gripping the handrail as crowds bustled by my 85-year-old’s pace. At the time, I could barely be convinced to slow down an