Devils & Blue Dresses: My Wild Ride as a Rock and Roll Legend

she filed for divorce.
    It was very difficult, mostly because we had very little money and I was trying to stay in the home while we waited for the divorce to become final. Finally the day came when I could afford to move out, but it was only through the good luck of having an old acquaintance being the owner of some apartments.
    My credit had gone from very good to high risk over the years. Not only had I neglected bills while paying alimony to Kim and trying to keep my family with Megan afloat, but Megan had serious health issues with her heart that only became worse with time. Doctor after doctor would perform serious malpractice, putting her condition in a steep decline.
    When I first met Megan she was fine, but she suffered from STVs, a condition where her heart sped up to an unsustainable rate, especially in recent years. She opted to have an electronic oblation and was guaranteed by the premier school of medicine in Michigan that it was an outpatient situation and she would be home the same day. The professor physician, well qualified to perform the new medical procedure, allowed a visiting student doctor from France to take the reins and they ended up putting her into third degree heart blockage, requiring her to get a pacemaker implant while in her early thirties. In subsequent replacements and extractions more damage was done.
    During the first extraction to replace the original pacemaker Megan died on the table twice and was beaten back to life twice. I visited her in the hospital and she complained about serious pain she had experienced through the night. It seems the doctor, in installing the new pacemaker, had punctured her left lung and caused it to collapse. They had given her a pump to keep the lung inflated, but it was still very painful. And Megan can take a lot of physical pain. She had to, because she now has been clean and sober over twenty-two years and has always rejected pain medication. We couldn’t figure it out until I followed the pump’s cord down to the electrical input in the wall, where it lay on the floor having been disconnected the entire evening. Megan was a mess from fighting with the pain and had gotten no sleep but refused to accept any meds. I took the doctor aside and told him to slip some painkiller into her IV and I would take full responsibility. Finally she slept.
    That experience and subsequent mistakes with the next two implant replacements (a clotting disorder that she developed, two pulmonary embolisms she had blown in her lung, scar tissue from the lung collapse, a small clot that hit the back of one eye taking away some of the sight, injections of expensive blood thinner for the rest of her life, shots to diminish bone density loss, and many other offshoots of the “original sin”), plus the cost of our medical insurance, which is twice the national average for poverty for a family of two, and the cost of protecting the degenerative nature of herteeth due to the injections, have taken a heavy financial cost and thrown it directly upon my back. That and legal costs for a variety of issues we have faced together, now give me the credit rating of a rail car hopping hobo. By the way, the wonderful doctor who caused all this fled South after saying he was sorry.
    Anyway, Megan and I divorced, but I was ordered to maintain her health insurance by the court. It was during this time that I started work on this book. Sure, I was lonely. I missed the boys and my dog, Sahne, but I wasn’t sad. It seemed with Megan that I was always sad or mad about something.
    As the years of alimony went by it became apparent to me that things were going to get extremely difficult for Megan because her health insurance was about to end. Because of previously existing conditions, she would never be able to regain private insurance. I cared so much for Megan I told her I would re-marry her so her insurance would not be interrupted. She understood, but she also believed she loved me and was willing to give me a second chance.
    Today, even though I still think about the old behavior I hated giving up so much, I struggle to toe the line but occasionally find myself wanting a drink around the holidays. After a while the urges pass and I have pretty much adopted those rules of conduct I once so defiantly rejected as too invasive of my private rights. I understand the reasons for them being kept in place and I think Megan and I are going to make it.
    Megan and I still have fights, but they are