of pizza and trips and saline drips

Hav had her birthday party saturday night at Puget Sound Pizza ("I used to live here, you know!" *ahem*), and it was karaoke night, and it was all around a freakin' blast. Except, although, I only had 2 pieces of pizza, and the beer gremlins kept bringing & bringing, and my hummingbird metabolism did not approve. I guess I rushed the stage at one point. Well, attempted to, but fell. At least everybody laughed. From there out it's all brief flashes until the bright lights of the ambulance. Apparently as everyone was leaving I walked off at a ninety-degree turn and ended up not far but on the ground, not moving. Cut my chin & arms up pretty bad. Stupid. So stupid. Had to go to the hospital, 6 stitches in my chin, and the Lord's best invention, the Saline Drip. They later told me my bac was up to .22, oh dear. I remember, as they were wheeling me to the CAT-scan machine, waxing poetic to the nurse about my dislike of hospitals, insightfully commenting that they force one to confront the reality of human frailty. Hm.

The last nurse to tend to me before my discharge sincerely recommended I check into rehab, and lauded Hava for staying by me, because not many would, or should. Maybe it was her irish accent that caused me to not take it personally. And then, the most sublime moment of the day, once discharged I was shoeless, so here's Hava and I walking down the freshly rained-on sidewalk by St Joe's at 9 am, me barefoot and still sporting IV bandage and outpatient bracelet, face all stitched up, dried blood on my arms, and one of my coworkers drives by, waving. "Hi Josh!" "Oh, hey, hi!" Surreal.

And now, my mind is a quiet calm place, human frailty fully face-on
confronted.