At A Certain Point in Recovery,

and I can do it now, you realize that it is going to be a recovery, not -- for me, for now at least -- the ending that awaits us all. I reached that point this afternoon while lying on my stomach with Dr. K. applying electrodes to my legs, giving me an EMG to test for neuropathy because of the tingling in both my feet. The sensation was like having sleet or light hail hit against your bare skin, mildly unpleasant from time to time, not at all painful. And it turns out, not surprisingly, that I do have some degree of sensory neuropathy, no motor to speak of, thank goodness. The next step will be to find out the reason why, although in 30 percent of neuropathy cases, according to the website I just read, no cause can be pinpointed. It was an awful day today in NYC, cold, barely 50 degrees, and periods of hard rain. Thursday I see Dr. M. for more blood work and I'll ask then if she will take me off some of these meds. I don't feel invincible anymore, but after the tests I did feel like a pisco sour and said to myself "why the hell not?" and went off to Pio Pio for one and two chicken empanadas. Don't overdo, but don't deny. It all was as good as before my illness. And then I slogged home, through the wet to find the annoyance that the letter I had sent to the address that the insurance company says you are supposed to use to request reconsideration of a claim had been returned marked "Return to Sender, Not Deliverable as Addressed, Unable to Forward". A fake address -- now that's an imaginative way to avoid insurees wanting reconsideration.