ACCIDENTS, ACCIDENTS

Cousin Johnny was nearly in a head on by a car who crossed into the oncoming lane. My first reaction was this: let's go find out who this is, where they live, and go do some shit stomping. OK, that's a knee jerk reaction. I don't fantasize about doing something like that. That's old timey talk; Italian talk. Mob talk, even though none of my family is mob (note no capital for that word, save for the beginning of the sentence. Wise guys kill their own mothers if the boss tells them to).

What a fucking nightmare that must be. Sister went - and is still going - through the same shit; the psychological repercussions of such a shocking incident. 

But I understand how the rug can be pulled out from under you. Fucking seizure I had caused by new medication. Waking up on the bathroom floor with Charlie the cat fanging at my toe. He knew something was wrong and was trying to bring me out of it. Then there's the bleeding from the ulcer. How much blood did I lose? Put it this way: I was given transfusions for a week and a half.

Awhile ago, I was trying to figure out which hospital stay was worse: the one after the seizure or after the upper GI bleed. Obviously, both stays were bad. In the hospital after the seizure, I was waking up every two hours screaming -night terrors from having bad reaction to pain killing medication. From the GI bleed episode, I wasn't told the results of the biopsy they did on my upper intestine - until the fucking day I was checked out!

But this is bringing me back to my 'pain journal' days. I printed hard copies of them a long time ago but threw most of them out. I have a hard enough time moving forward. With anything.