No, Dear Reader, I haven’t borrowed Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak or Captain Kirk’s cloaking device. I’ve been gone for a little while. Not by choice, but by medical requirement, for several weeks and with barely a word to you. I’m sorry.

Here’s what happened:

Last December I slipped two discs in my neck. Actually, and more precisely, a numb arm led my amazing doctor, Michele, to the realization that I’d slipped two discs sometime in the past. Could have been 10 years ago, when I crashed my father-in-law’s motorcycle. I didn’t even know they were slipped (more properly, herniated) since they hadn’t given me any trouble whatsoever. After a series of evaluations and MRIs, Michele hooked me up with a great pain management specialist, Dr. J.P.

The answer, Dr. J.P. said, was a series of 3 steroid shots in my neck in the O.R., with the help of a Fluoroscope – basically a live x-ray that would help her see how to guide the needle. I had three shots over about 2 months. The first two were fine and my neck felt dramatically better. But the third went haywire. A common complication – the possibility of which Dr. J.P. and I had discussed – left me with something called a Spinal Headache. Imagine a large boulder. Put it on your head. Leave it there. Spin in circles.

I spent a week in the hospital and another 10 days or so recovering. It wasn’t a fun experience, but I’m doing fine now. I owe a huge thanks to Drs. J.P. and Michele for getting me back on my feet!

I’m looking forward to getting back on track for my upcoming weight loss surgery. I’ve been catching up on my writing and I should be posting regularly again. Thanks for continuing to read BigFatMike while I was gone. Oh, I’m down about 10 pounds too.

By the way, my neck feels great.

It’s been a month since I ate McDonalds. 30 days. I’m shocked that I’ve been able to give it up. I don’t usually have this kind of will power. I can’t even really say it was difficult. I made a decision and I’ve stuck with it. Honestly, I can barely see the Golden Arches in the rearview mirror. I’m not craving. I’m not dreaming. I’m not even thinking McD.

Even my beat up old Saab is better. It’s not full of crumbs or sesame seeds. There’s no grease on the steering wheel. I’m not worried about Erica finding a used wrapper in the car. The Saab has driven by McD’s a bunch of times – there’s one just two minutes down the road – but it hasn’t turned in.

For the first time in 41 years I’ve followed through on a decision to stop eating something unhealthy. T. Don, my longtime therapist says I should be proud of myself. I’m not even sure what that means. It didn’t occur to me to feel anything about the choice until he mentioned it. But he’s right.

I’m proud. Take that, Mickey D.