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Point of View

Tiny White Box: Will Schroedinger’s sword cut Damocles cat?

You haven’t heard from me in a few months. I do hope you enjoyed the respite, because that silence has ended, beginning today with a mea culpa. I apologize to all the InkLink readers who contacted me offering support, to the members of Hope Nation who kept me in their prayers, to the countless folks in the larger recovery community who sent texts and emails of love and support, to my old Army buddy, Ryszard Guziewicz, to the InkLink’s Editor/Publisher/Grand-Poohbah, Carol Robidoux, and to dozens of others. I am sorry. I didn’t respond to many of your inquiries about my health, each sent with love and compassion. It was wrong but necessary to have isolated in a cocoon composed of my wife and daughters, along with a very small group of close friends.  Thank you all, and please accept my apology. READ MORE

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Point of View

You’re in recovery when you say you’re in recovery

In one major part of my life, I didn’t always take such a moderate view. Since May 21, 2007, thanks to a program of recovery that remains central to my life, I have not found it necessary to drink or use any mind-altering substance. Over these 6,058 days, I’ve worked hard to become the kind of man my mother dreamed I’d someday be. I have, without boasting, made, and continue to make, progress on that goal. That is how I define my recovery. READ MORE

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Point of View

On choosing to live

Three weeks ago, on my 65th birthday, my body was pierced, robots were inserted into my lungs to extract a tumor and some lymph nodes, the booty was sent off for analysis to high priests of science, I was pumped full of painkillers for two days, and I foiled a plot to kill me. READ MORE

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Point of View

Dodging bullets and burying leads

Yesterday, Hope for New Hampshire Recovery’s board of directors sent out a too-kind press release announcing my departure. This release was gratifying to read, of course, but made me sound much more professional and serious than I am. In the interest of setting the record straight, I’ve composed an alternate release. READ MORE

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Point of View

A tale of two bus rides, two hospitals and the upside of ‘ifs’

It’s seven a.m., November 8, 2023. Soon, I’ll board a bus to Boston to take the T and a bus to West Roxbury. There, I’ll walk into the VA hospital to be chemically knocked out. A surgical team will put an instrument down my throat. That mechanism will, I believe, snip off tiny bits of the nodule in my lung and, perhaps, a sample of nearby lymph nodes. These pieces of me—and how strange to think of a cancer as part of ME—will be sent off to mystics and sorcerers in the mountains—sorry, I mean pathologists in a lab. They’ll read my entrails and divine my future. What a funny world, huh? READ MORE

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Point of View

The future may be shorter, but it may also be deeper

Observant readers will note the use of the past tense in that last sentence. Let me not bury the lead any further. I have resigned as director of Hope effective right away. Before rumors begin, I have not turpituded financially, sexually, behaviorally or any other way. Likewise, I have no policy or personnel disagreements with Hope’s board of directors. They are all fine people, as are the staff members and the membership of Hope. Hope is my vision of what a recovery center should be: a community of folks bonded by a love for each other and a desire to live without chemical assistance. READ MORE