So Here's the Story (Abridged version)

Here we are, in the middle of the latest Midwest heat wave, which was interrupted yesterday morning by a massive thunderstorm in east-central Wisconsin. That's where we were at the time, driving Linda to her first dialysis treatment in Waupaca. The lightning in the distance was spectacular, the deluge of rain not so much fun for driving. It was pouring when we dashed into the dialysis center, but by the time Linda got out a few hours later, it was 93 degrees with 137% humidity. Wunderbar!

While Linda was having dialysis, I drove the 30 miles to Redgranite, our destination for the day. The motel wouldn't let me check in early, and I headed (literally) around the corner to visit my ex-wife, Judy. Linda, in her last blog, mentioned Judy's recent car accident, but I'm sure you'd rather hear the story of how this person is still in my life to begin with. I could write a book about my friendship with Judy, so this will be the much-abridged version.

Judy and I got married on my 30th birthday, in 1981. We were opposites attracted by our proximity in the poker room at the Bingo Palace, where I had my first employment in the poker industry. I guess we were unconventional from the start--we ran away from Las Vegas to get married elsewhere. The marriage lasted three years; the only thing we truly had in common was the ability to make each other laugh and laugh and laugh. We still cared about each other but simply realized that we were not going to make each other happy.

So we became friends, and the friendship endured. We could entertain each other, but had the luxury of not being responsible to or for each other. We could have our fun and say "see ya." She also became my "family." Both my parents died while we were married, and Judy became the person who knew me and understood me best, and who wanted most for me to be happy. For the next decade, we often traveled together and sometimes lived together, platonically. I left Las Vegas in 1995, about the time she got involved with her husband now, Tom, who had worked for us when we were part of the management team at Sam's Town in the late 1980s.

Tom gave up poker dealing to become a truck driver, and in 1997 they moved to central Wisconsin where he was from. They've gotten stronger and stronger over the years, and Tom has really come through in taking care of her and everything else since her accident last month. She has found a contentment she was never able to find in Las Vegas, and the current Judy is the best version yet. Until yesterday, I hadn't seen her since 2002, so when we planned to make the first stop of our trip in Redgranite, it seemed like it would be nothing but a happy reunion.

Then she had that accident, a head-on collision in which she escaped damage to her brain, face, or spine, but pretty much broke everything else. She was in an induced coma for much of the first week, had a tracheotomy to help with breathing, reconstructive knee surgery, and more. All of her ribs were broken, which concerned me for our visit. Inevitably, I make her laugh, and I was afraid that I would crack her up--literally. But her ribs have healed, and I was happy to hear her laugh robustly more than once.

She just got home last Friday after nearly five weeks in the hospital. Her sister has come from Oregon to take care of her so Tom can go back to work. She is using a wheelchair around the house--the recovery from the knee surgery will take 12 weeks--maneuvering it with one hand since her other arm is currently out of commission (shattered collarbone and severed nerves). I spent about an hour and a half with them, and it was a good visit. She's on assorted painkillers and other medication, causing a dreaminess that is enhanced by the beatific feeling of someone who has just escaped death.

But the visit ended abruptly when she needed to lie down and needed medication. Her pattern is to feel her best in the morning and gradually feel the pain and discomfort more and more as the day wears on. We had figured on another late-afternoon visit with Linda joining us, but when I called later, Tom said that Judy wasn't up to visitors. So we're going to see her for awhile this morning before heading to our next destination at the western edge of Wisconsin. This will be a good visit, I'm sure, not the extended time we figured on spending with her before the accident, but good nonetheless. And then we'll head west.