Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I talk about my past.
I’m gonna talk about the recent past. You know, I’ve been in many ER’s, many hospitals and many rehabilitation hospitals. I’ve been to the hospital so many times, I should have gotten a condo there. One thing I had in common with that is that I always had a roommate and sometimes several roommates. I’ll just talk about a few.
One of my first roommates was a young FBI agent. She had been beaten up pretty bad in a stairwell. She was with me in a room called the tracheotomy room. There was about 4 of us in the room and a nurse there 24/7. We were high risk patients. Well, this agent was right across from me. I woke up one morning to see she was pretty much naked. I guess the heat got to her. Or the brain injury. Anyway, she was a character. She was in the hospital as long as I was. One time I was having breakfast in the hall. She came up to me to say hi and promptly took a shit on her foot. Obviously, I didn’t finish my breakfast.
I think I told you about this, but I had another roommate right across from me once. He had a black panther tattooed over his heart. His name was Hameed. I said, “Hameed, are you a Black Panther?” He said, “Yeah.” He’s a muslim cleric now. He was an interesting guy. He had some great stories.
Another roommate I had was a drug addict. The guy was doing some drugs and when he passed out wedged his head between the table and the wall. Well, that stunt landed him in the hospital. The guy was a little crazy. He used to have his girlfriend bring his fix into the hospital. The guy would chop up his Oxy and snort it. One time his girlfriend came, they closed the curtains between us and promptly had sex right next to me. I guess you could say I was one sheet away from a menage a trois.
Another roommate I had would just scream all the time. I mean LOUD and all the time. See, I was on the head injury floor at the recovery hospital. The hospital was like something out of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Most people were in there from texting and driving. A lot of young guys were in there from motorcycle accidents. Basically, it was a crazy floor. So I guess I fit right in (my friend here says).
Anyway, that’s just a few of my many roommates I’ve had. I often wonder where they are now. I’m pretty sure some recovered fully, and some never recovered.
One day I’ll tell you about the genius computer guy I had as a roommate. A tree went right through his head and chest in Central Park. There was another guy who kept laughing and crying all the time. The list goes on and on but I’ll leave it at that for now.
Love and miss you guys. Love, B. Nice
P.S. The photo above represents pretty much how I would see a house in the woods. Pretty wild, huh? But that’s how I saw things. But not anymore. I’m getting better.