o: Rearrange Bird Room into Boys' Room.
o: Clean out garage
o: Drop TU courses
o: Enroll TCC
o: Get perm cap for tooth
o: Talk to doc-
x- Cough
x- depression
x- sleeplessness
x- male birth control?
o: get over it
o: gas up car
o: Call Jess
o: Make Labor/delivery kit
o: Find Retief! books
o: chew out dad?
o: break addiction to comic books.
12/11/2007
Broken Leg
So, not but late August I went and ran my car into a traffic light pole. Totally smashed the car. Me? I broke my leg. That is all. Well, I do admit to the loss of a shoe (permanently bonded to the gas and clutch pedals) and the general scraping of extremities to be expected of a shattering set of windows. But I only broke my leg.
I do say, for an attempted suicide, I got off rather lightly. One thing though, Never let the fire dudes play with their toys. They spent twenty minutes (a little longer according to the police report, but I'm talking from experience) pushing, pulling, twisting and smashing the wheel and pedals around my leg before a paramedic got impatient and told them to just cut the freaking shoe off me. Twenty seconds later I was in the ambulance.
I spent five or six days in the hospital, waiting for a bed in the psych clinic for half of it, then three days (minimum admittance, I'm told) in the "crisis unit" of a psych clinic, where they decided that I was more mentally stable than most of their nurses. No one, least of all me, could give a satisfactory answer to why i had tried to kill myself, and it all seemed like a surreal dream to me. At least until the bills started marching in.
No less than five separate bills, most in the thousands, and none less than five hundred. Attempted Suicide sucks, I do not recommend it to anyone.
I do say, for an attempted suicide, I got off rather lightly. One thing though, Never let the fire dudes play with their toys. They spent twenty minutes (a little longer according to the police report, but I'm talking from experience) pushing, pulling, twisting and smashing the wheel and pedals around my leg before a paramedic got impatient and told them to just cut the freaking shoe off me. Twenty seconds later I was in the ambulance.
I spent five or six days in the hospital, waiting for a bed in the psych clinic for half of it, then three days (minimum admittance, I'm told) in the "crisis unit" of a psych clinic, where they decided that I was more mentally stable than most of their nurses. No one, least of all me, could give a satisfactory answer to why i had tried to kill myself, and it all seemed like a surreal dream to me. At least until the bills started marching in.
No less than five separate bills, most in the thousands, and none less than five hundred. Attempted Suicide sucks, I do not recommend it to anyone.
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