I get yelled at a lot, by people who love me, because of things I do, or don't do. I'm scared, really scared, for the first time in my life. For anybody that knows me and what I've done that's quite a lot to say. I'm scared because of what happened in the fairly recent past and I still remember it. The "Shit Happens" argument doesn't work because that's what I'm scared of. Shit happening again. I still remember my hallucinations, being woken up from coma to ask if I wanted morphine to stop the pain of having some tubes pulled out of my chest. The blinding pain of arterial blood samples taken at every shift change. Sitting around for a year and a half wondering where the missing hard drive I backed myself onto was lost and what was on it. I still remember the day I woke up and saw my wife and daughter standing next to my bed, trying to talk to them and finally realizing they couldn't understand a word I said because I lost my language. Losing 77 pounds and being so weak I couldn't hold my head up, let alone wipe my own ass. Waking up in the middle of the night thinking I was a prisoner and trying to escape. (I got as far as the floor in a bloody, shit covered mess.) The 3 headed dongle that hung out of my neck for dialysis and had to be changed three times due to infection. (Incidentally it was an NP that got me off that. My doc gave me 10000:1 odds of getting off dialysis.)
I know what I need to do. But damn, don't preach at me. I'm still terrified.
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