As he bears down on 14 weeks in the Clarian system, Bruce is starting to get some physical therapy again, but it’s been a rough climb back out of the abyss since his setback over the Memorial Day weekend. Yesterday he was able to get on his feet for the first time in three or four weeks (I lost count), and that should help his mood, because he faces having to redo all the muscular progress he made during the month of May. Apparently the nephrologist told him it’s unlikely that his transplanted organ will wake up this time, but the specialists were wrong in April, so why not stay hopeful and keep praying? That kidney has been through a lot, it’s true, and Jerome was astonished when it kicked in the last time, declaring it a “medical miracle.” I wonder— what’s “Doc” thinking now? The situation isn’t any easier with people around Bruce dumping their personal problems on him instead of protecting the fragile alchemy of his vision for healing. He doesn’t need the added burden of worrying about extraneous ineptitude and financial disarray (and that should go without saying, but I said it).