After returning from the hospital Ryan, Nancy, and I spent a relaxing evening sitting on the couch watching "Grizzly Man," while I enjoyed a few hundred milligrams of hydrocodone and about ha;f a dozen pillows of various shapes and sizes before sinking into a deep, diazepam slumber. Remarkably, my shoulder didn't wake me up at all in the night, and except for a bit if stiffness the morning was as pleasant as any I could have expected.

Ryan and I spent the next day figuring how to ship my bike home (and when I say that I mean Ryan got the bike boxes, packed them, and took them to UPS while I watched and gave excellent, if unnecessary, direction). Then we went down to the pier in Grand Haven, saw the magnificence of endless Lake Michigan, took a few pictures, and got home in time to relax for a few minutes before heading out to a low-key barbecue with a couple high energy dogs and some fresh peaches from a road side stand that wouldn't accept credit but would accept an IOU.

I'm not sure what I would have done if it weren't for Ryan and Nancy feeding me, housing me, bandaging my wounds, packing my bags, and driving me to the airport. If I had to do all that on my own, it might have taken two or three days just to get into my sling and button my pants.

The plane ride was actually much less uncomfortable than I anticipated, as the Valium and Vicodin more or less knocked me out for the duration. The only slight annoyance was a three year old whose father decided it was acceptable for him to kick the back of my seat from Minneapolis to Seattle.

The last couple days I've been lounging at home, taking my pills, and trying to sleep more and eat less. I figure if I continue with the 6,000+ calorie diet I've been maintaining for the past few months, I'm going to balloon up like Jabba the Hut at a hot dog eating competition, so a lot of fruit and tea is in order. For those of you who weren't aware of this, narcotic painkillers can cause constipation, so plenty of bananas are on the bill as well.