The pizza and our friends were great on Sunday evening. It's a good combination. That is until . . . until we ended up in the Ripon hospital overnight. So, this is how it played out:

We left Roadhouse Pizza, hugged our friends. I carried out the good leftovers; Loren used his trusty "stick." One step down. Great. One innocent pivot. Head meets cement sidewalk.

Thankfully, our friends and a few kind bystanders helped. Nothing broke. Hard hit to head, Loren said. Got him to a sitting position. Nothing was broken. Eventually helped him to stand. Uneasy, but fine. Moved him to the car and drove him home with friends following after us.

After goodbyes and thank yous, Loren sat on the couch and I faced him, sitting on the ottoman. He questioned what had happened, I answered, he asked more questions and none of the words were in the dictionary. I couldn't understand him. Immediately, I thought of a stroke so called 9-1-1. A police officer arrived first, followed by EMTs who asked him questions and received the same jibberish answers I had tried to decipher.

Once I had a chance, I texted people who would want to know (and, somehow, I missed other key people who will forgive me, I trust). Tim's response was, "Mary is on her way." Thank goodness for that woman, the same good woman who stayed close through Loren's November/December 2023 hospital stay.

His only ambulance ride had been last December to St. Mary's in Madison, his second was to our local hospital .6 miles away where, after all the requisite tests, he was diagnosed with a concussion just like football players when they clash.

We both stayed overnight where he was fitful every 5 minutes and where I was answering his jibberish every 5 minutes. And I'm not kidding, because I could see the clock! There was no sleep for either of us. Loren wasn't aware of the good care he received, but I saw it all. Mary knew many of the doctors, nurses and other professional staff at the hospital. That made it all the more comforting and personal.

After discharge, we added 4 new drugs to our charcuterie tray and we enjoyed a delicious dinner prepared by the same saintly woman we call a dear friend.

Now Loren rests and recovers. Each day has been an improvement in his speech. In fact, today I heard no jibberish at all. We did have to cancel two social gatherings, which would have brought us both joy. But the others involved were fine with the inconvenience considering the alternatives for Loren's well-being.

My stories tend to be long and I've wondered how to short-cut the telling. However, I've realized that, at each step along the way, God is with us. We are surrounded by prayers and good people, quality health care here in our little city, science in action and a body that works to heal despite Stupid Cancer.

Thank you for journeying with us, dear ones.