Love to all. Even you.

It was a black-tie affair, mostly. Every now and again, someone walked by in drag, in leather, or in jeans. I’d peg the formalwear-to-not ratio at about 97:1. All told, we were two-thousand people at 200 tables in the Grand Ballroom of the New York Hilton at 54th and 6th. The mood was raucous. Peals of laughter rippled across the floor with great and wonderful frequency. Every speaker was met with loud and boisterous approval.

But no hangover for me, this morning. Or for any the two-thousand people at last night’s shindig. Why? It was the Bill W. 71st Anniversary Dinner, and every single attendee at the $100-per-person affair was sober. Even the guests.

To sit in the ballroom, look across at the thousands of attendees, and think: “all of these people lost the same battle I did, all of these people reached their own point of desperation, and all of this people are having one hell of a time…” Well, it was pretty fantastic.

Very few problem drinkers make it to AA. Fewer stay. Last night was, as one speaker put it, possibly the biggest room of blessed people in New York City… at least at that moment.

How lucky are we?

Sometimes you just have to say “fuck the damage.” Seriously. I was in this AA meeting a couple months ago, and this lady I really like (friend-style) was all depressed, and saying that she didn’t feel like she had the right to be happy.

So I went up to her afterwards and said “Dude, God has personally authorized me to tell you that you have the right to be happy.” And I MEANT it.

Everyone has a right to be happy. Although people’s definition of happiness can be wacky. For me, happiness is the absence of fear. Period.

Everything else is gravy. Fortunately, I have lots of gravy.

Maggie is much better. Phew.

If you go to the hospital, bring an advocate. Bring someone who will politely(!) talk to the doctors and nurses about what they are doing and why. Don’t be a prick. I repeat: don’t be a prick. Regardless of how competent or incompetent the people are, you’re going to need them on your side.

This is the advice that was given to me, and boy… it’s dead on.

Case in point. Maggie was in the hospital. She was sent home with steroids and benadryl. They didn’t work. She was in the hospital again the next day, really fucked up this time, and they put her on an IV drip of more powerful steroids. And benadryl. But they said they’d switch her to Atarax.

So, they go to send us home, since the IV steroids were working very well, and they gave us a prescription for the SAME USELESS MEDS that didn’t work the first time. We said, “Do you think that’s a good idea?” The doctor said “Well, we can send her home with a prescription for what we’d give her if we admitted her to the hospital.

“Good idea,” we said.

While her physical symptoms are a lot better, I gotta say: These steroids made Maggie a little wacky. The doctor actually said “I have to warn you [pointing at Maggie]… or rather, I should really warn YOU [pointing at me] that these drugs can make you loopy.”

Look. This is my blog, so I’m gonna just say it. Maggie was wacked. She was up all night doing stuff, marching around the house. She was really hard to talk to, quick to anger, and generally nutty. Honestly, seeing her like THAT was harder than seeing her covered in hives.

The last time I talked to her, she seemed a bit better. We have a babysitter tonight, so I’m going to go play Paddle Tennis. Even though I’m exhausted, I could use the exercise.

Love to all. Even you, the nurse who doesn’t like people from “our town.”

My business partner (and one of my better friends) is getting married right now. Literally. Right now. I was supposed to be there, but clearly I’m not.

Maggie woke up this morning with a severe allergic reaction to antibiotics, which wound up with her in the emergency room via ambulance. Truth be told, it started Thursday night, and wasn’t much improving over the last day or two. She tried to call her doctor, but was only allowed to talk to her nurse. The nurse was rude and dismissive. She called the kids doctor, since he’s an allergist, but he refused to get on the phone.

Way to go, Mount Kisco Medical Group. Nice fucking job.

So this morning, when her eyes and mouth were swollen, we decided to go to the ER. But as she started to get ready, she nearly fainted. She asked me to call 911. The EMT guys, and the police, were totally stellar.

She’s developed an allergy to pennicilin. She’s never had one before. Nice that the folks at Mount Kisco Medical Group wouldn’t take her seriously enough to actually discuss this with her.

Covered in hives as she is, she’s in no condition to go to a wedding. And I’m not going to go more than 15 minutes from her. I’m taking the kids to a movie and dinner out, but I’ll be in cell range AND within a short drive the whole time.

Ugh. Double ugh. One because I was really looking forward to the wedding. The other because Maggie is super-uncomfortable.

Love to all. Even you, the MKMG nurses who don’t take female patients seriously.

Married? Long-term relationship? Things getting a little dull with in the bedroom? A little “by-the-book,” as they say? Have you recently opened your eyes in the middle of lovemaking only to find that:

1) Your partner is playing on a PlayStation Portable?
2) So are you?

Well, folks: I have the CURE. It’s nearly-instant, and all it takes is a few minutes of your time. And best of all: it’s FREE! That’s right: FREE!

It’s all detailed in my new book: “How to turn your partner into a crazed nymphomaniac by doing the dinner dishes and keeping the bathroom clean!”

You’ll see, in a few easy steps, how YOU can turn YOUR partner into a ravenous, over-sexed love-junkie who will stop at nothing to have you.

Here are just a few of the tips you’ll find inside:

1) Secrets to effective rinsing.
2) Flushing: what is it?
3) Why dry sponges/paper towels are ineffective.
4) And more!

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