Actually real good.
The best he’d felt since leaving the hospital this last time four weeks ago. Yes, indeed.
After returning home to San Francisco from the Gulf and the Storm eight years ago, Declan had been in and out of the regional V.A. Hospital, located up in the North Bay at Martinez, a dozen times. The surgeons had done a pretty good job on his bad leg—he had only a slight limp now—but the doctors had less luck with his damaged psyche, or so they claimed. Over the last eight years, the psychiatrists and clinical psychologists at the hospital had built up an impressive ten-inch file of extensive test results, observational anecdotes, and diagnoses, most of the technical jargon incomprehensible to Declan with the exception of post-traumatic stress disorder and the two words often ta
