“I pity the poor bastard,” screamed Drifter one afternoon a few years back, drenched and shivering in a violent downpour, “who comes down the river and this doesn’t happen to them!”
But in August, something happened that wasn’t as fun. I gashed my shin, some doctors sewed it up, but a few days later it went bad. So we opened it up and purged.
And I went for a helicopter ride.
And spent a nice few days in the hospital.
But it’s all better now. Thanks to all who helped.
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