On Friday, December 10, 2010 I collapsed at work. Paramedics drove a new-model ambulance to visit me; my boss insisted I return to the hospital with them. Going to the hospital was not part of my Friday night plans. I had a first date and he was taking me to an art reception. But, I made the best of the ride and got eligibility status on one of the paramedics for a co-worker. (He had a girlfriend.)

3-21-14 LA Ambulance

I sent two texts from the ambulance. One was to one of my best friends inviting her to join me in the ER if she had no plans and the other was to my date, “some girls will do anything to get out of going on a first date…  I’m going to the Emergency Room.”

His reply: Ok.

I thought the dizziness, back spasms, and fever I was suffering from was the flu, but several hours and one MRI later, I was diagnoses with “a mass” on my brain. The doctors admitted me and encouraged a weekend stay.

Saturday morning, I got a text from Southern Man. (We already had several dates.) He got a late start on his return trip from San Diego and asked if a late morning hike would be okay. I told him I was in the hospital. Even though I was looking forward to seeing him for the hike, I asked him not to visit.

He obliged.

I got a text from a guy I had a phone conversation with several weeks earlier. In that conversation he told me he was in a wheel chair from a car accident.


He followed it up saying he didn’t want anyone with health baggage (since he had his own). During the conversation I wondered:

If we are in an LTR and anything makes me “unhealthy” would he have the capacity to love me?

Later in the conversation, I gave him a modified “It’s Not You It’s Me” speech.

Apparently, something piqued his interest. Not knowing any of what happened in the last 24 hours, he sent me a text asking to meet up for coffee and try it again. I replied that I had a lot of stuff I was dealing with and didn’t want to talk. He said he could be a good friend. I responded, “I have enough friends.”

He didn’t respond.

To think of where I started to having a weekend where I rejected three men still astounds me. The dating journey since brain surgery has been different still. But, those are for other stories.

The forthcoming blog posts will resemble the classic song, “Jump Around” (they will not be in chronological order). To aid with digestion, I will group the stories by man.

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