This is an opinion column with a gallery of opinion cartoons.

I usually post a year-in-review gallery of cartoons at the end of the old year. But here we are, and here it is. Visit the gallery at the top of this page for a sampling of my work in 2023. Take a stroll through the toons and see what you think. But keep in mind, this gallery only tells half of last year’s story. This is a half-year-in-review.

Here’s what happened on my side of the other half of 2023.

Sometime after the last week of June, I “up and disappeared.” I didn’t draw another cartoon or post another column until I got a doctor’s approval to return to work on December 4, 2023. I was on short term disability leave for nearly six months.

I posted the following explanation about my disappearance on Facebook in October:

Dear friends: I am not dead.

It’s been almost five months since I’ve drawn a cartoon for AL.com, published my Crowe Jam newsletter, posted a sunset photo or anything new on social media. I haven’t been riding my bike on the bay, hanging out at the Tiki Hut, going to Art Walk or catching live music around Fairhope. Poof. I up and disappeared. I’m sorry I left y’all hanging. I didn’t have much choice.

Where I come from, any time somebody comes up missing, folks might blame it on aliens, or worse … “the hogs ate him.” Well, the hogs didn’t eat me. (I would have been a pretty skimpy meal.)

Sometime in early July, I was blindsided – abducted, attacked… by something. I stepped on a trap door, slid down a rabbit hole and fell into a hospital bed in a small room surrounded by doctors in white coats holding clipboards. “Perplexing,” one said. The others nodded. A mortician crouched in the corner.

Rapid weight loss. Distaste for food. Insomnia. Who was this shrinking, feeble old guy with the haunted look in his eyes? Who was this emaciated, befuddled dude shuffling around in my shoes? Worst. Prank. Ever. Somebody got me good this time.

After the first 10 days of no sleep, the hallucinations were no longer amusing. I was stuck in a 24/7 David Lynch movie where reality blended seamlessly with the absurd. “The owls are not what they seem.”

Folks, I know I’m “not right.” I’m a cartoonist. But how long would it take doctors to find “what’s wrong?”

By late August, I couldn’t force enough food or protein shakes down my throat to stop the spiraling weight loss. Getting weaker. I could barely chew. And then I couldn’t swallow.

By mid-September, I was headed back to the hospital and most likely a feeding tube.

But first, an eye exam. I was overdue for a new prescription, but bigger worries kept me from making an appointment. The morning I got up seeing double sealed the deal.

Dr. Stephanie Montgomery almost came out of her seat on the other side of the examination viewfinder as a blinding orb of light emerged from behind my right eye. “Wow, that’s a lot of inflammation!” (She either said “inflammation” or “information.” Either word holds true.) She described what she found as a treasure trove of autoimmune information. It was a pot of gold.

On a Sunday September evening, I was transferred from Thomas Hospital to Mobile Infirmary by ambulance for an 8-day marathon of tests, concluding with biopsy surgery followed immediately by a 5-alarm MRI clang-bang space trip from hell grand tour of my brain and spinal column that turned into a religious experience.

Home with a diagnosis: Sarcoidosis, a rare autoimmune disease. Not cancer, which is what the doctors suspected. Treatable. It’s in our family history. Sarcoid wasn’t on any “rare disease” lists when it almost killed our mother 35 years ago.

My eye doctor found evidence of the culprit hiding behind my right eye during a routine exam, which was key in unlocking the mystery.

Read the entire Facebook post here

By definition, an autoimmune disease is one in which the immune system accidentally attacks its own healthy body cells. So, I really am my own worst enemy. I knew it!

Since my sarcoidosis diagnosis, I have been on an intensive steroid treatment plan. It’s all the rage. My appetite came roaring back after the first dose of prednisone. I can eat, I can sleep. I can roll over and play dead. I’ve never felt more alive.

I’ve gained back all the weight I lost – about 30 pounds – and then some. I have a rejuvenated spirit and my energy level is bouncing back. The main thing that held me back – from my job, from almost everything – was the lingering double vision. Our Alabama political goobers are disturbing enough in real life. We don’t need caricatures of Tommy Tuberville with two heads, two noses and four eyes.

Speaking of Tuberville, he was a fitting target for my first cartoon when I got back to work in December:

JD Crowe: After more than 9 months, Tuberville’s water finally broke – al.com

My vision has gradually cleared up, and for the first time in six months, I am allowed to drive a motor vehicle. But the biggest thrill was about six weeks ago when I got back on my bike. I enjoy riding around town again, going to the store and toting groceries home in my backpack. There’s nothing like the freedom you feel on a bike. It turns you into a grinning, adventurous 10-year-old.

Take some time and visit the gallery of 2023 half-year-in-review cartoons … tell me what you think. I gotta get my dorky arse back to the drawing board. I’ve got a new year and some pent-up new energy to unleash. That’s what I think.

I am not dead. I am grateful.

And I am back … almost in full farce.

Love y’all.

****************************

Thank you, team of doctors. I’ll be seeing you.

Special thanks to all the wonderful nurses at Thomas Hospital and Mobile Infirmary. You are true Angels on Earth, and we can all be proud of the way you represent our community.

And thanks to you, family, friends, colleagues and readers. I’m grateful for you all.

Recent JD Crowe content

‘Daily Affirmations’ with Nick Saban: The ol’ GOAT is mellowing with age – al.com

New Year’s Day 2024: Clean slate and a fresh start – al.com

Christmas 2023: May your heart and attitude be filled with gratitude – al.com

True stories and stuff by JD Crowe

The mysterious ‘Bubble Guy’ of Fairhope and the art of bubble Zen – al.com

How I met Dr. Seuss

Robert Plant head-butted me. Thanks, David Coverdale

I was ZZ Top’s drummer for a night and got kidnapped by groupies

Check out more cartoons and stuff by JD Crowe

JD Crowe is the cartoonist for Alabama Media Group and AL.com. He won the RFK Human Rights Award for Editorial Cartoons in 2020. In 2018, he was awarded the Rex Babin Memorial Award for local and state cartoons by the Association of American Editorial Cartoonists. Follow JD on Facebook, X (Twitter) @Crowejam and Instagram @JDCrowepix. Give him a holler at [email protected].