The past three and a half months turned my life more or less upside down. First I was admitted to the hospital where the diagnosis was kidney failure. Then I had two operations to install a carotid artery catheter for hemodialysis, and another in my lower abdomen for eventual peritoneal dialysis. Until last week I went three times a week for hemodialysis — a trip downtown and back plus three to three and a half hours of dialysis — and then two visits per week for peritoneal dialysis training. Four nights ago I dialyzed myself at home, the result being that my public hours are very much what they used to be. I also feel much better than I did. Tonight I attended the Monday night dinner, a charitable event for the homeless or the needy. The majority of my friends fall into one or the other category. They are not the sort I can count on for much, but friendship, no matter how it is packaged, is a good and worthwhile thing. For the record, they had spaghetti with salad and garlic bread. Added to that was coffee and a sliver of apple pie. I was in hog heaven, because my two favorite meals, at least public meals, are spaghetti and meatloaf. I told someone tonight that if they ever have both on the same night, I’ll know that I died and went to heaven. Anyway, I caught up with a number of friends, went home full, and have forty-five minutes left before quietly hooking myself up to the cycler, reading a bit and then falling asleep. Life is good again.