ONE IN A MILLION

It all occurred many years ago on a playground one Saturday afternoon.

In 1975 I took a job with an ad agency in Manhattan, and was working one month when things went wrong, terribly wrong. I had taken my two younger children to a local park in the area for a Saturday afternoon. As they sat in the swings, with me gently pushing them, a sudden headache took over, emanating from the back of my head. It was severe, and I didn’t feel good at all, so I called my doctor who told me to come right down. He checked me out and said I had a modular infection.

I went to work that Monday, and I noticed that as I got on the train, it was a great struggle, and I was very tired. Arriving at Hunterspoint Avenue I walked to the then IRT Flushing line and down the steps, each step almost measured. I climbed the steps when I changed trains at Grand Central for the Lexington Avenue line, and had to lean against a pole, because of complete exhaustion, and sweat pouring down my face. I went to work that day and then spent the whole day in agony, as the headache and body aches were taking over. Soon I was running a high temperature but stayed the whole day.

Going home that evening, I had to rest between cars on the LIRR to go to the front of the train so that I would be close to my parked car.

I checked into the Brookhaven Memorial Hospital and a long week of strange and sometimes funny things began to happen that have stayed with me for the rest of my life. I was dying and I didn’t know it!

The Day After Tomorrow: I MEET THE COUNT ( ONE IN A MILLION CONTINUES)