August 2003

moocowinthecity 2003-08-26 No Comments

Date: Tuesday 8/26/03 1:35:00 AM

Music: At The End-IIO-Queer as Folk – The Third Season

Okie, last post before bed, methinks…

Greetings Matthew —

Here is your horoscope for Monday, August 25:

You’re hemmed in by less-than-ideal conditions. Earth Signs seem to have a tricky relationship with gravity right now. Secure your bragging rights before you try to exercise them.

Tricky relationship with gravity!? no shit.

covarla (covarla) (12:29:22 AM): oh, and if chrisitie’s (gryvon) the man in your relationship, does that make us sisters-in-laws?

Yes…yes it does.

G’night ^_^

~ me

Untitled

moocowinthecity 2003-08-26 No Comments

Date: Tuesday 8/26/03 1:35:00 AM

Music: At The End-IIO-Queer as Folk – The Third Season

Okie, last post before bed, methinks…

Greetings Matthew —

Here is your horoscope for Monday, August 25:

You’re hemmed in by less-than-ideal conditions. Earth Signs seem to have a tricky relationship with gravity right now. Secure your bragging rights before you try to exercise them.

Tricky relationship with gravity!? no shit.

covarla (covarla) (12:29:22 AM): oh, and if chrisitie’s (gryvon) the man in your relationship, does that make us sisters-in-laws?

Yes…yes it does.

G’night ^_^

~ me

The Accident Part The Third

moocowinthecity 2003-08-25 No Comments

Subject: The Accident Part The Third

Date: Monday 8/25/03 10:13:00 PM

Music: At The End-IIO-Queer as Folk – The Third Season

Tags: the accident

So this morning I woke up before my alarm clock got out of bed, checked email and got dressed and met up with Bev (a nurse, comrade and close friend of mine who works at Buffalo General and someone who I’ve done alot of abortion rights and gay rights work with). She was in full blown “omg, I know what your mothers going through mode…” and she took me to Buffalo General.

I signed in with the Dental Clinic, after a long wait and many forms I was told by a nurse that they didn’t have my X-Rays and that I needed to get them before I could be seen.

Bev went into gaurd dog mode and attempted to tear out her throat and is preparing to go to the administration of the hopsital with a list of complaints a mile long. We eventually finish the argument and Bev drives me over to Millard Fillmore Suburban hospital where I sign out my X-rays and then we drive back.,

More waiting…lots and lots of waiting.

Then I’m seen by Dr. Alex, D.D.S., M.D. (Oral Surgeon) who starts to poke and prod my face, examen the X-rays and do some more poking and proding. As it turns out my nose has a hairline fracture which we’re going to try and let heal on it’s own.

My teeth are a different story. They’ve been pushed in. We’re going to wait until Friday to see if they can’t start to heal on their own, and then we’re probably going to have to add metal bars and wax and stuff to them (this being the non technical terms) to get them shoved back in. I’m also, in all probability going to need two root canals. I’ll know more on friday. Root canals don’t sound like fun, however it could be worse – I could have no teeth, so I’m not complaining.

They found bruises on my knees and elbows which was indicitive that I fell in a crouched position. The doctor told me to “not blame myself” – which I wasn’t – because “with the medication you’re on, it’s no wonder you didn’t wake up…” and although I wasn’t in a terrible amount of pain at the time, I didn’t turn down the offer to get some perscription strength ibuprofin cause…well, non addictive pain killers are your friend. I also got a script for an oral mouth wash.

Bev then drove me over to Wegmans where I got my scripts filled and did some mild shopping and then back to the dorms where I managed to get my key to work and thus don’t need to get it replaced (yay!).

My mom and dad for some reason think that someone kicked the crap out of me (I don’t know if this is still their theory). Dad asked me if someone put something in my drink the night before. The answer is “no.” Higher grounds coffee shop is a church on sunday and I was with my close friends, I know that none of them drugged me and that if they saw someone drug me…well let’s just say that I don’t think said drugger would stand a chance vs. these folk. I also know that if for some strange reason I was drugged it would work instantly, and not eight or nine hours later (I went to bed at around 4am). I don’t buy this line of reasoning, primarily because of my lack of defensive wounds and the fact that my laptop, wallet and PDA have remained in my room untouched as does my gay pride flag on my wall (which surely would have been removed or defaced if this were a gay bashing). Plus the bruises on my elbows and knees.

But let’s say that this “accident” really isn’t an accident. What did it accomplish? What did it “teach me?”

It’s made my faith in the gods even stronger – I thank the gods for the fact that I didn’t die, I thank them for the fact that I can now have the opportunity to say goodbye and tell my friends and family how much I love them and I thank them for providing me comfort when I was in the hospital – the gods are always there to listen to whoever would turn to them to speak and pray – you don’t need to be in temple or church or mosque to pray or be close to the gods, they’re never far away and they’ll always listen to you if you need to talk; always.

If it was a gay bashing, let me tell you I’m still queer and I still want a man and I still want to have gay sex so they didn’t accomplish much other than some physical damage – I’m always willing to take a hit for the gay community even if that hit is by bullet; I’d rather be a martyr and dead than be a coward and go out with my hands up. Giving up is not an option nor is surrendering – I’d rather die with honor than die a coward – nothing is worse than a dishonorable death.

If someone didn’t like my politics or for some reason was pissed off at me for how I treated them (I freely admit I can be a bitch or rather that I am a bitch) then they really didn’t teach me “a lesson” in the way that they would want to because I’m not scared of them nor do I plan on backing down or changing who I am fundamentally to please anyone. In the end this is a minor inconvience on the road of life and while I’m sure this has scared others more than it’s scared me, in a few weeks it shall be forgotten completely as I move on with school and with my life and with my art work and political work.

I’ve learned that beauty is only skin deep – I didn’t find myself “hot” perse before but I know that I certainly look better minus the Panda/Racoon eyes. If this has taught me anything, it’s that behind the skin there’s a person which should be the first thing that you get to know – the beauty should be merely considered an added perk. This is something I didn’t really know in reality (I knew the theory) before the accident, but I do know now.

I’ve learned that people will claim to be “your friend” during the goodtimes, but it takes a real friend to stick it out with you when the going gets rough. I’ve also learned that laughter is truly the best medicine – even when it hurts.

Through this I learned that I have some extremely dedicated and loyal friends:family:comrades from all walks of life, of all political persuasions of every political background and belief system and religion. All of my frieneds, family and comrades showed their true colors and all but a small few should be very very proud of the fine people that they’ve become and the paths of life that they’re walking. I also learned through this that beauty isn’t perhaps the first thing I should look for in someone because it can easily be taken away (“and in a flash it was gone…”) and if you only look at the physcial, there will be nothing after it’s gone and it doesn’t last forever. I’ve learned how much I love my friends and how much I love my parents and family even when my family drives me up the wall (I’m sure I drive them nuts as well). I’ve learned how lucky I am to attend UB and how lucky I am that there are people out there who want to help just for the sake of helping. I’ve learned how much I truly love the gods and how much I truly love my religion.

So all in all, if I were the “victim” of a “beating” instead of an accident, I thank the person for the lessons that they’ve taught me – these are valuable things to learn at a young age (yes eighteen is young as is nineteen – though I promise you that I’ll never grow old). If this is, as I think it is, an accident, then I’ve still learned some valuable things so ce’st la vie.

Time to move on my friends, time to move on…

In spiffy news, I received a very very well thought Birthday present from Agnes (dreamfireflame) – it’s a lion. Those of you who have followed this journal know my close spiritual connection with lions…it’s tres, tres spiffy.

Christie (gryvon) and I are now both under the strict impression that we work so well together because she’s the man in our “relationship” and I’m the woman. As I’m gay and she’s a lesbian, this appears to be a correct assesment.

Agnes also gave me a spiffy tarot card reading…much to think about and Candie and Mikey are still the cutest thing on the planet and Sarah gave me one of her friendship bracelets today which was nice ^_^ – she also turns into the terminator version of Jewish Grandmothers at a moments notice…I fear the day we let her cook passover…not because I’m afraid of her messing up, but because I have no IDEA how we’re going to store all that food…(edit note: I’ve been informed she can’t cook…chinese take out it is!)

Now…’bout them kittens…if a cow’s on the door with a beret and a cigg in it’s mouth and a goatee, don’t come a knockin m’kay?

~ me ^_~

P.S. Dad will be coming up tomorrow ^_^ Dave will be with him ^_^ you’ll get to meet some of my family…Also…either attempting to lower bed or get a futon…’cause this whole sleeping high up thing is SOOO not happening again…

The Accident Part The Third

moocowinthecity 2003-08-25 No Comments

Subject: The Accident Part The Third

Date: Monday 8/25/03 10:13:00 PM

Music: At The End-IIO-Queer as Folk – The Third Season

Tags: the accident

So this morning I woke up before my alarm clock got out of bed, checked email and got dressed and met up with Bev (a nurse, comrade and close friend of mine who works at Buffalo General and someone who I’ve done alot of abortion rights and gay rights work with). She was in full blown “omg, I know what your mothers going through mode…” and she took me to Buffalo General.

I signed in with the Dental Clinic, after a long wait and many forms I was told by a nurse that they didn’t have my X-Rays and that I needed to get them before I could be seen.

Bev went into gaurd dog mode and attempted to tear out her throat and is preparing to go to the administration of the hopsital with a list of complaints a mile long. We eventually finish the argument and Bev drives me over to Millard Fillmore Suburban hospital where I sign out my X-rays and then we drive back.,

More waiting…lots and lots of waiting.

Then I’m seen by Dr. Alex, D.D.S., M.D. (Oral Surgeon) who starts to poke and prod my face, examen the X-rays and do some more poking and proding. As it turns out my nose has a hairline fracture which we’re going to try and let heal on it’s own.

My teeth are a different story. They’ve been pushed in. We’re going to wait until Friday to see if they can’t start to heal on their own, and then we’re probably going to have to add metal bars and wax and stuff to them (this being the non technical terms) to get them shoved back in. I’m also, in all probability going to need two root canals. I’ll know more on friday. Root canals don’t sound like fun, however it could be worse – I could have no teeth, so I’m not complaining.

They found bruises on my knees and elbows which was indicitive that I fell in a crouched position. The doctor told me to “not blame myself” – which I wasn’t – because “with the medication you’re on, it’s no wonder you didn’t wake up…” and although I wasn’t in a terrible amount of pain at the time, I didn’t turn down the offer to get some perscription strength ibuprofin cause…well, non addictive pain killers are your friend. I also got a script for an oral mouth wash.

Bev then drove me over to Wegmans where I got my scripts filled and did some mild shopping and then back to the dorms where I managed to get my key to work and thus don’t need to get it replaced (yay!).

My mom and dad for some reason think that someone kicked the crap out of me (I don’t know if this is still their theory). Dad asked me if someone put something in my drink the night before. The answer is “no.” Higher grounds coffee shop is a church on sunday and I was with my close friends, I know that none of them drugged me and that if they saw someone drug me…well let’s just say that I don’t think said drugger would stand a chance vs. these folk. I also know that if for some strange reason I was drugged it would work instantly, and not eight or nine hours later (I went to bed at around 4am). I don’t buy this line of reasoning, primarily because of my lack of defensive wounds and the fact that my laptop, wallet and PDA have remained in my room untouched as does my gay pride flag on my wall (which surely would have been removed or defaced if this were a gay bashing). Plus the bruises on my elbows and knees.

But let’s say that this “accident” really isn’t an accident. What did it accomplish? What did it “teach me?”

It’s made my faith in the gods even stronger – I thank the gods for the fact that I didn’t die, I thank them for the fact that I can now have the opportunity to say goodbye and tell my friends and family how much I love them and I thank them for providing me comfort when I was in the hospital – the gods are always there to listen to whoever would turn to them to speak and pray – you don’t need to be in temple or church or mosque to pray or be close to the gods, they’re never far away and they’ll always listen to you if you need to talk; always.

If it was a gay bashing, let me tell you I’m still queer and I still want a man and I still want to have gay sex so they didn’t accomplish much other than some physical damage – I’m always willing to take a hit for the gay community even if that hit is by bullet; I’d rather be a martyr and dead than be a coward and go out with my hands up. Giving up is not an option nor is surrendering – I’d rather die with honor than die a coward – nothing is worse than a dishonorable death.

If someone didn’t like my politics or for some reason was pissed off at me for how I treated them (I freely admit I can be a bitch or rather that I am a bitch) then they really didn’t teach me “a lesson” in the way that they would want to because I’m not scared of them nor do I plan on backing down or changing who I am fundamentally to please anyone. In the end this is a minor inconvience on the road of life and while I’m sure this has scared others more than it’s scared me, in a few weeks it shall be forgotten completely as I move on with school and with my life and with my art work and political work.

I’ve learned that beauty is only skin deep – I didn’t find myself “hot” perse before but I know that I certainly look better minus the Panda/Racoon eyes. If this has taught me anything, it’s that behind the skin there’s a person which should be the first thing that you get to know – the beauty should be merely considered an added perk. This is something I didn’t really know in reality (I knew the theory) before the accident, but I do know now.

I’ve learned that people will claim to be “your friend” during the goodtimes, but it takes a real friend to stick it out with you when the going gets rough. I’ve also learned that laughter is truly the best medicine – even when it hurts.

Through this I learned that I have some extremely dedicated and loyal friends:family:comrades from all walks of life, of all political persuasions of every political background and belief system and religion. All of my frieneds, family and comrades showed their true colors and all but a small few should be very very proud of the fine people that they’ve become and the paths of life that they’re walking. I also learned through this that beauty isn’t perhaps the first thing I should look for in someone because it can easily be taken away (“and in a flash it was gone…”) and if you only look at the physcial, there will be nothing after it’s gone and it doesn’t last forever. I’ve learned how much I love my friends and how much I love my parents and family even when my family drives me up the wall (I’m sure I drive them nuts as well). I’ve learned how lucky I am to attend UB and how lucky I am that there are people out there who want to help just for the sake of helping. I’ve learned how much I truly love the gods and how much I truly love my religion.

So all in all, if I were the “victim” of a “beating” instead of an accident, I thank the person for the lessons that they’ve taught me – these are valuable things to learn at a young age (yes eighteen is young as is nineteen – though I promise you that I’ll never grow old). If this is, as I think it is, an accident, then I’ve still learned some valuable things so ce’st la vie.

Time to move on my friends, time to move on…

In spiffy news, I received a very very well thought Birthday present from Agnes (dreamfireflame) – it’s a lion. Those of you who have followed this journal know my close spiritual connection with lions…it’s tres, tres spiffy.

Christie (gryvon) and I are now both under the strict impression that we work so well together because she’s the man in our “relationship” and I’m the woman. As I’m gay and she’s a lesbian, this appears to be a correct assesment.

Agnes also gave me a spiffy tarot card reading…much to think about and Candie and Mikey are still the cutest thing on the planet and Sarah gave me one of her friendship bracelets today which was nice ^_^ – she also turns into the terminator version of Jewish Grandmothers at a moments notice…I fear the day we let her cook passover…not because I’m afraid of her messing up, but because I have no IDEA how we’re going to store all that food…(edit note: I’ve been informed she can’t cook…chinese take out it is!)

Now…’bout them kittens…if a cow’s on the door with a beret and a cigg in it’s mouth and a goatee, don’t come a knockin m’kay?

~ me ^_~

P.S. Dad will be coming up tomorrow ^_^ Dave will be with him ^_^ you’ll get to meet some of my family…Also…either attempting to lower bed or get a futon…’cause this whole sleeping high up thing is SOOO not happening again…

I don’t want to be a drama queen…

moocowinthecity 2003-08-24 No Comments

Subject: I don’t want to be a drama queen…

Date: Sunday 8/24/03 10:26:00 PM

Music: Life in the Fast Lane-The Eagles-Greatest Hits Volume 2

Tags: writings: poetry

First, I’d like to thank all of my amazingly spiffy friends who have truly gone above and beyond the call of duty these past few days, I’m not going to mention anyone by name because you’ve all helped and have just been so amazing it has made me cry. Thank you so much – I love you.

Basically, in this post I’m going to wrap up the “wow, I was in the E.R. story” because I really don’t want to be a drama queen and I really don’t need sympathy, there are people who have been through much worse than I have. I’m alive, albeit banged up and bruised and being alive is sort of what counts. The only other posts regarding this will be tomorrow after I see the oral surgeon with the “here’s the skivvy on my teeth post” and the “hey, I’m back to normal post” and at most, one more “update” post.

I think the best way to finish this off is with the poem I wrote so I could remember the experience:

LJ-Cut: August 23, 2003

August 23, 2003

Beat down, fall to the ground, shit kicked out of me – who the hell know’s what happend to me, woke up in a pool of blood, face covered – lips split open, shoulder feels like it’s been broken, nose completly flat.

Get up and go to the bathroom, look in the mirror – scariest thing on the planet: loss of memory – what the hell happend to me? How did *THIS* happen…I don’t know…walk down the hall and bang on the R.A.’s door “help…”

9-1-1

The police were called…”we’re with the suspect” they said…”what the f’k do you mean by suspect” said my head…they interrogated me as I sat in pain, over and over they asked the same three questions: were you drinking, did you do drugs, who hit you? To which I then gave them the same replies: I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, my door was locked – I can’t remember. I’m on medication, if I did drugs I’d be dead. I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, my door was locked – I can’t remmeber. I’m on medication, if I did drugs I’d be dead. I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, my door was locked – I can’t remmeber. I’m on medication, if I did drugs I’d be dead.

After what was probably fifteen minutes – but what felt like hours, the officer called an ambulance for the “suspect” that was I…I was taken by ambulance to the hospital down the road…was my neck broken…was I going to die without ever saying goodbye?

I looked up into the EMT’s eyes – he seemed so familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why…why did I know his face? I know that I know his face, I know him but I don’t know why. His name is Scott.

And out of the Ambulance I was wheeled, through the double doors I was lead. And then a nurse came in and started to ask me questions – I told them to call my parents…they needed to know where I was…then I heard her say the things that every parent feared “Mrs. schwartz, this is cheryl from Millard Fillmore hospital…” and I nearly screamed…

Eventually I got to the phone, but I don’t remember how and I got to speak to my parents, Mom and Dad and told them what I knew at the time and then I was lead back to the hospital bed…so cold, so cold.

Again I slept and laid on the hospital bed and I continued to talk to the gods…I didn’t make deals, didn’t beg for my life, didn’t make promises, didn’t ask why, didn’t plead – just said to them in my head “what am I supposed to learn from all this? What is the lesson to be had?”

Then more nurses came, and more doctors, all with the same few questions to which I replied I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, my door was locked – I can’t remember. I’m on medication, if I did drugs I’d be dead. I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, my door was locked – I can’t remmeber. I’m on medication, if I did drugs I’d be dead. I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, my door was locked – I can’t remmeber. I’m on medication, if I did drugs I’d be dead.

I pulled the ends of my blood soaked pajama pants over my feet…good thing I’m short…and moments later I was wheeled into the X-ray room where they took pictures of my head:neck:arms:spine:body to make sure I wasn’t ‘broken’ though lying in that bed I didn’t feel “all together” regardless…then a big man came in – made me feel safe – wrapped me in a blanket because he saw my feet and realized I was cold – and wheeled me to the CAT scan machine. Computer lights whirlled and machines spun around…they wanted to know why I couldn’t remember…so did I…why can’t I remember? Because my mind doesn’t want me too…

Again I slept and laid on the hospital bed and I continued to talk to the gods…I didn’t make deals, didn’t beg for my life, didn’t make promises, didn’t ask why, didn’t plead – just said to them in my head “what am I supposed to learn from all this? What is the lesson to be had?”

Then it was time to get some stitches, my lips were busted open – will I be able to feel the warmth of a kiss? Are my nerves damaged? As I was getting wheeled into the opearting room the nurse assured “don’t worry we’re not operating, just some stitches…now rinse and spit…” – passing by the door a stranged said “Feel better buddy…” which nearly made me cry because the kindness of strangers is something that’s allmost always lacking in the big city but not here in “everyone know’s each other Buffalo.”

Then a doctor came in – gorgeous – “well is he Jewish?” popped into my head courtesy of the left side of my brain channeling my mother…to which the right side responded “now’s not the time…thwack!” He was one of the doctors who saw me before…he was calming…told me what he was going to do and as I layed down, he put a white sheet over my head…I couldn’t see what he was doing…all I saw was a white light through the white sheets…and my mind kept on making after life jokes to pass the time…

Then the doctor finished stitching me up and told me that I had to see an oral surgeon on Monday – pray I can keep my teeth and that my nose wasn’t broken…and then I recieved my discharge orders and I had to figure out how to get home…took ten minutes to get through to UB’s campus information line…got my room telephone number…spoke with my roomate, got a nurse to give directions and his parent’s picked me up and took me home…

And the thing of all this, it could always be worse…thank the gods I didn’t break my neck or my head, thank the gods that I’m not dead, thank the gods my spine isn’t broken and that I’m not bound to a wheel chair for life, thank the god’s that I now will have the opportunity to say good bye.

I just wish I knew what really happend.

I don’t want to be a drama queen…

moocowinthecity 2003-08-24 No Comments

Subject: I don’t want to be a drama queen…

Date: Sunday 8/24/03 10:26:00 PM

Music: Life in the Fast Lane-The Eagles-Greatest Hits Volume 2

Tags: writings: poetry

First, I’d like to thank all of my amazingly spiffy friends who have truly gone above and beyond the call of duty these past few days, I’m not going to mention anyone by name because you’ve all helped and have just been so amazing it has made me cry. Thank you so much – I love you.

Basically, in this post I’m going to wrap up the “wow, I was in the E.R. story” because I really don’t want to be a drama queen and I really don’t need sympathy, there are people who have been through much worse than I have. I’m alive, albeit banged up and bruised and being alive is sort of what counts. The only other posts regarding this will be tomorrow after I see the oral surgeon with the “here’s the skivvy on my teeth post” and the “hey, I’m back to normal post” and at most, one more “update” post.

I think the best way to finish this off is with the poem I wrote so I could remember the experience:

LJ-Cut: August 23, 2003

August 23, 2003

Beat down, fall to the ground, shit kicked out of me – who the hell know’s what happend to me, woke up in a pool of blood, face covered – lips split open, shoulder feels like it’s been broken, nose completly flat.

Get up and go to the bathroom, look in the mirror – scariest thing on the planet: loss of memory – what the hell happend to me? How did *THIS* happen…I don’t know…walk down the hall and bang on the R.A.’s door “help…”

9-1-1

The police were called…”we’re with the suspect” they said…”what the f’k do you mean by suspect” said my head…they interrogated me as I sat in pain, over and over they asked the same three questions: were you drinking, did you do drugs, who hit you? To which I then gave them the same replies: I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, my door was locked – I can’t remember. I’m on medication, if I did drugs I’d be dead. I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, my door was locked – I can’t remmeber. I’m on medication, if I did drugs I’d be dead. I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, my door was locked – I can’t remmeber. I’m on medication, if I did drugs I’d be dead.

After what was probably fifteen minutes – but what felt like hours, the officer called an ambulance for the “suspect” that was I…I was taken by ambulance to the hospital down the road…was my neck broken…was I going to die without ever saying goodbye?

I looked up into the EMT’s eyes – he seemed so familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why…why did I know his face? I know that I know his face, I know him but I don’t know why. His name is Scott.

And out of the Ambulance I was wheeled, through the double doors I was lead. And then a nurse came in and started to ask me questions – I told them to call my parents…they needed to know where I was…then I heard her say the things that every parent feared “Mrs. schwartz, this is cheryl from Millard Fillmore hospital…” and I nearly screamed…

Eventually I got to the phone, but I don’t remember how and I got to speak to my parents, Mom and Dad and told them what I knew at the time and then I was lead back to the hospital bed…so cold, so cold.

Again I slept and laid on the hospital bed and I continued to talk to the gods…I didn’t make deals, didn’t beg for my life, didn’t make promises, didn’t ask why, didn’t plead – just said to them in my head “what am I supposed to learn from all this? What is the lesson to be had?”

Then more nurses came, and more doctors, all with the same few questions to which I replied I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, my door was locked – I can’t remember. I’m on medication, if I did drugs I’d be dead. I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, my door was locked – I can’t remmeber. I’m on medication, if I did drugs I’d be dead. I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, my door was locked – I can’t remmeber. I’m on medication, if I did drugs I’d be dead.

I pulled the ends of my blood soaked pajama pants over my feet…good thing I’m short…and moments later I was wheeled into the X-ray room where they took pictures of my head:neck:arms:spine:body to make sure I wasn’t ‘broken’ though lying in that bed I didn’t feel “all together” regardless…then a big man came in – made me feel safe – wrapped me in a blanket because he saw my feet and realized I was cold – and wheeled me to the CAT scan machine. Computer lights whirlled and machines spun around…they wanted to know why I couldn’t remember…so did I…why can’t I remember? Because my mind doesn’t want me too…

Again I slept and laid on the hospital bed and I continued to talk to the gods…I didn’t make deals, didn’t beg for my life, didn’t make promises, didn’t ask why, didn’t plead – just said to them in my head “what am I supposed to learn from all this? What is the lesson to be had?”

Then it was time to get some stitches, my lips were busted open – will I be able to feel the warmth of a kiss? Are my nerves damaged? As I was getting wheeled into the opearting room the nurse assured “don’t worry we’re not operating, just some stitches…now rinse and spit…” – passing by the door a stranged said “Feel better buddy…” which nearly made me cry because the kindness of strangers is something that’s allmost always lacking in the big city but not here in “everyone know’s each other Buffalo.”

Then a doctor came in – gorgeous – “well is he Jewish?” popped into my head courtesy of the left side of my brain channeling my mother…to which the right side responded “now’s not the time…thwack!” He was one of the doctors who saw me before…he was calming…told me what he was going to do and as I layed down, he put a white sheet over my head…I couldn’t see what he was doing…all I saw was a white light through the white sheets…and my mind kept on making after life jokes to pass the time…

Then the doctor finished stitching me up and told me that I had to see an oral surgeon on Monday – pray I can keep my teeth and that my nose wasn’t broken…and then I recieved my discharge orders and I had to figure out how to get home…took ten minutes to get through to UB’s campus information line…got my room telephone number…spoke with my roomate, got a nurse to give directions and his parent’s picked me up and took me home…

And the thing of all this, it could always be worse…thank the gods I didn’t break my neck or my head, thank the gods that I’m not dead, thank the gods my spine isn’t broken and that I’m not bound to a wheel chair for life, thank the god’s that I now will have the opportunity to say good bye.

I just wish I knew what really happend.

as if it couldn’t get any worse…

moocowinthecity 2003-08-23 No Comments

Subject: as if it couldn’t get any worse…

Date: Saturday 8/23/03 4:39:00 PM

Music: hall mates crappy music

I woke up in a pool of blood, but I don’t remember waking up, just that I was covered in blood…I banged on my RA’s door and he called campus security…after them calling me a suspect and me explaining to them that I didn’t take drugs or do alcohol and that my door was locked so no one hit me, I was taken by ambulance to the ER at Suburban Hospital where they xrayed me all over, gave me a cat scan ran tests and gave me stitches…apparently I fell from the top bunk onto the cement floor…I have to go to Buffalo General on monday to get oral surgery…I feel like such crap and I’m in pain – the not good kind.

The only highlights of this journey was that the doctor was really cute and calming, and the guy who wheeled me around was really big and tucked me in…other than that, stitches suck as does oral surgery and I had to keep from crying, because I kept on thinking “this could be so much worse, I could be gone and I wouldn’t have gotten to say goodbye to my friends or family”

I need sleep…thus, I’m going back on the bed of death (now complete with safety bar) and attempting to sleep…

as if it couldn’t get any worse…

moocowinthecity 2003-08-23 No Comments

Subject: as if it couldn’t get any worse…

Date: Saturday 8/23/03 4:39:00 PM

Music: hall mates crappy music

I woke up in a pool of blood, but I don’t remember waking up, just that I was covered in blood…I banged on my RA’s door and he called campus security…after them calling me a suspect and me explaining to them that I didn’t take drugs or do alcohol and that my door was locked so no one hit me, I was taken by ambulance to the ER at Suburban Hospital where they xrayed me all over, gave me a cat scan ran tests and gave me stitches…apparently I fell from the top bunk onto the cement floor…I have to go to Buffalo General on monday to get oral surgery…I feel like such crap and I’m in pain – the not good kind.

The only highlights of this journey was that the doctor was really cute and calming, and the guy who wheeled me around was really big and tucked me in…other than that, stitches suck as does oral surgery and I had to keep from crying, because I kept on thinking “this could be so much worse, I could be gone and I wouldn’t have gotten to say goodbye to my friends or family”

I need sleep…thus, I’m going back on the bed of death (now complete with safety bar) and attempting to sleep…

moocowinthecity 2003-08-14 No Comments

Date: Thursday 8/14/03 7:22:00 AM

Music: Native Love (Step By Step)-Divine-Queer as Folk – The Third Season

Tags: true life: id10t errors

So yeah, I just go to IM someone and I was like “why are they repeating back to me the same thing that I just typed…” Until I realized I was IMing myself (I’m on my buddy list so I can see my profile)…

Untitled

moocowinthecity 2003-08-14 No Comments

Date: Thursday 8/14/03 7:22:00 AM

Music: Native Love (Step By Step)-Divine-Queer as Folk – The Third Season

Tags: true life: id10t errors

So yeah, I just go to IM someone and I was like “why are they repeating back to me the same thing that I just typed…” Until I realized I was IMing myself (I’m on my buddy list so I can see my profile)…