This journal documents the author's experiences as a television writer. To read the story from its inception, go to the beginning.

May 30, 2002

I am Lazarus
On March 19, 2002, my doctor, in mid-appointment, told me she was admitting me to the neurology ward of Manhattan's Beth Israel Hospital. "Go there now," she said. "Don't stop by your apartment. Someone can bring you your things."

I was getting a rheumatologic exam because I had been enduring pain and weakness in my arms, hands, and feet for the previous six weeks. I had also been plagued by extreme fatigue. It was painful to type. It was painful to function. The first words out of my rheumatologist's mouth upon examining me: "Has anyone ever told you that your right pupil is much larger than your left?"

After three days at Beth Israel it was determined that whatever was ailing me was not neurological. No brain tumor. No spinal cord lesions. No sign of approximately 500 maladies and conditions. Four neurological workups, two MRIs, an EKG, an EMG, a chest x-ray, and 13 vials of blood later, I was released.

I have seen many doctors since March. The pain, discomfort, and fatigue vary from crushing to endurable. But I have managed to continue my life. I have met with my agents in LA. I am engaged to be married. I have moved into my betrothed's abode and we are navigating the rocky road to learning how to live with each other.

This is the first writing I have done in three months. My hands do not feel well as I type these words. Fuck it. It's time to take a stand.

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� 2001 - 2002 tv writer. All rights reserved.