“You wake up in the morning, get dressed, put on your shoes, and you head out into the world. And you assume you’re going to come back home at night, go to sleep, and get up to do it again…”

“I woke up one morning, and I wasn’t wearing any of my own clothes…”

“I had two chest tubes, a hose going up my nose to drain my stomach, a catheter, and a morphine drip… At the end of my bed I could see the surgeon who had stayed up all night saving my life, and he was holding my foot. He had given me a 2 percent chance of living. Next to him were two homicide detectives…”

— from the story "Whatever Doesn't Kill Me," by Ed Gavagan