February 26,1990

February 26,1990
The only thing I saw was the bright headlamp of the oncoming car. It had only one, most likely due to a previous accident. I don’t really know. But that night changed my entire life. Certainly you do not get behind the wheel of your own car, sober, and expect to be hit head-on in an accident. Well, for some reason I still have life enough in me to write this story to you.
I left my mother’s house after eating a beautiful dinner, which consisted of lasagna, various rolls, a glass of wine, and that famous potato salad she makes that’ll put thirty pounds on you in a minute. It was if it were my last dinner. I suppose that is what I would have requested if I had known. In all actuality, it really was my last dinner. Since the accident left me paralyzed and unable to eat solid food. I can still taste everything I had that night. In my mind anyway.
You know, the funny thing is that I really cannot blame the person who hit me that night. Even though they had been drinking, I think of the many times I got behind the wheel wasted out of my mind. I would shudder if it were possible. I guess though, I would be considered the lucky one, I am alive. It usually doesn’t turn out that way. Most of the time it’s the innocent ones that die. Unfortunately he did, and I am sad for that. In fact, they tell me, if I obey all
their orders, there is a new operation that may restore partial movement to my limbs. I can only wait, to taste that lasagna again, for real this time.
As of right now, 1 am lying here thinking of all I wished I had accomplished in my life. The things I wish I had the courage to do, and would now do in a heartbeat. Don’t get me wrong, I am not dwelling on the fact that all that is over with, at least for the moment, but I just wished I hadn’t taken life for granted. And we all do it, really we do. Those of us that are born perfectly healthy, and unaware that anything could actually happen to us, certainly kidded ourselves when faced with a dilemma whether it is Cancer, Aids, or some type of life threatening accident. No one is immune.
I would have moved to the big city, wherever that may be. I have always been fascinated with the city, since I have lived in the country my whole life. I love music too, and the city would be a perfect place for me to join a group and become a rock star. I know that sounds corny, but it is something I have always dreamed about. Since all I can do is dream, I will grant myself every wish. Boy I would really get the crowd moving too, 1 would sing my heart out till my voice decides to throw in the towel. To hear all those cheering fans there for me would be wonderful. I would be there for them too. Not the money. Money bores me.
I have never been to the West coast. Maybe someday I will make it there. I could go even now but how would I scrunch my toes in the white sandy beaches of California? I’m not ready for that yet. There comes a lot of sadness, not self-pity, just sadness. But I would be happy just to smell the fresh salty sea air. I could listen to the seagulls above my head, who knows, maybe one would land on me. Wouldn’t that be a sight. Me, the human statue. That is funny. To me anyway. Maybe it would take bread from my open hand. I could do that, I know I could.
You know, my mother wanted me to stay for coffee and desert but I had things to do at home. Why didn’t I stay? I must admit that at times like this, right now, I get very angry, I run the whole entire game through my head. Why didn’t I do this, why didn’t I do that? Sometimes I feel like I am going insane. Somebody wipe my nose, I have to go to the bathroom, time to take a bath, and someone brush my teeth. Jesus, why did I survive? Maybe this all happened because I petted my mother’s cat, I never do that. Her cat can’t stand me, but it let. Me that night. Did it know? Did the cat do this to me? Was it feeling pity for me before anything happened? I did pet the cat after I told her I wasn’t staying, maybe it knew. For real. What if I had stayed, maybe the cat would have bit me instead and I could go on being a rock star or a painter, or even a clerk at a store. Who cares what. I would be walking. Talking. Eating. Living. This is not living.
Yes it is. I just got carried away. It has only been three weeks. I was in a coma for twelve days. I will be going through these feelings a lot. As time goes on it will get easier. I guess I am just getting anxious; tomorrow is the day I find out if I qualify for the reversing operation. They have to do it as soon as possible for the best results. But they must be absolutely sure the patient is ready both physically and mentally. Life is truly at stake once again. This time they gave me a choice. My present state, for life, or an eighty-percent chance of partial recovery with a maximum threat to life though. Since I received a tremendous amount of damage to my spinal cord right below my skull, I’m taking the chance. They say go with your intuition. I really did want coffee and desert that night. And I know I will be able to scrunch my toes in the California sand someday.
Ahh, boogers!

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