In May 2001 I left Seattle in pursuit of Leila to New Mexico. She had divorced her husband Steve in San Francisco for me. She came to Seattle and couldn’t confront me on the basis that it was too well. She asked the staff at Community House where I most wanted to go and went there instead; that was Taos New Mexico. When I heard she had left, I went too. We had parallel experiences. Among the many strange events in Taos, we both spent a night in jail. After Taos, we went to Chico California.
I lost my legs during the vacation in Taos and Chico. In July I decided that Leila was a dead end, I would return to Seattle and rejoin the Community House Mental Health place. I rode Greyhound. I stayed from the early hours till day time at the Greyhound station in Seattle. By the time I left the station my legs were swelled up like balloons. I walked on them. Everyone was rushing around talking fast and worried. When I noticed my legs, I wanted to hide. That day I fell asleep in a ditch and was found by Police, Fire, and Ambulance. I was taken to the hospital emergency room. I was told I would need an IV to remedy the swelling. Still groggy, I asked for a girl to administer it. The next day I woke up in the hospital’s safe Unit. I looked over myself down toward my legs. They were normal. That day I was transferred to a facility where I would stay until November – through the September 11th disaster. My legs have never swelled again since. Well that might not be entirely true, I might have a little swollen mound on my right leg. It is normal for me now, but I think it developed as a remnant from my experience returning to Seattle. Now, I think of it as an organ.
Leila has always been close to me in heart and mind. That vacation was the beginning of a new face of cooperation between us. She now lives in Beverly Hills California and probably recalls our vacation as vividly as I do.