I am so sorry, dear readers; I can’t believe I posted whatever nonsense that was last week. Actually, I can believe that, I just can’t believe my husband would let me. You see, I spent most of Monday night until Friday afternoon in the hospital but I had my laptop with me and I remember opening it early Wednesday and then the nurse coming in...and that’s all. It wasn’t until hours later that I realized I had posted my morphine-induced ramblings. Thank you all for your concern, I’m feeling much better now.
It’s entirely my fault, I know that. I can still be frustrated with the situation. I was fending off a rather aggressive victim when he managed to stab me with my own knife. I may have been a little overzealous with his kill but I was also bleeding from a stab just below my ribs. Nothing fatal, obviously but it did cause me a lot of pain and so while I was starting to bleed out, I quickly called James from a nearby payphone and walked myself to the hospital four blocks away.
I claimed a man tried to mug me but I got away from him and that’s around the time I passed out from shock and blood loss. I woke up a little less than a day later to find James sitting at my bedside and a nurse tending to my wound. According to her I was very lucky to have survived my ordeal as well as I did. Apparently the stabbing was all flash and no damage. I lost almost 3 pints of blood but no organs were damaged and ribs are completely unharmed. Almost like it was made by someone flailing about who happened to slice across my side.
Didn’t make it hurt any less.
The police arrived shortly after to take my statement of events, to which I quickly recounted before a nurse ushered them away so I could get my rest. I remember James kissing my forehead and telling me it’s all taken care of so I can only assume that the crime scene is spotless and he cleaned up yet another one of my messes. That man is too good for me. He stayed with me every night while I was in the hospital, trusting Jason to take care of himself for a few days – even drove the kid to see me a few times. I could tell Jason was worried but didn’t want to show it. I thought it was sweet, actually. I believe that was Wednesday evening when I was at the height of my hospital-grade pain killers which probably didn’t help my boys’ with their worries.
I reread what I posted last week and I can’t make sense of most of it. I know last week is usually my Halloween/Horror-themed post so it was kind of fitting, wasn’t it? A little glimpse into the back of my psyche.
I don’t think anyone wants to visit that place again anytime soon.
But I can assure you, dear readers, that I’m recovering well. The doctor said I still have to get checked out in a few days to makes sure I have no infections or the like. I’m also at risk of ripping my stitches if I perform any rigorous activity which means James has been sleeping on his side of the bed, and I’ve abstained from murder for the last week or so.
I’ve gotten much better at controlling my urges the past few years. A week or two away from my craft won’t drive me insane the way it used to. The only problem now is the “Hand of God” or “Hand to God” killer (I can’t remember which). Should I keep it going as a side project or just let it go all together? It was only meant to be an October project and we’re officially into November. Besides, I didn’t even get to finish October with the victims that I wanted. Maybe I’ll just take it to the end of the year and then see how it goes.
As always, dear readers,