…but it was no laughing matter.

In fact, it was deja vu all over again.

I had a blackout, hit the floor, and now have stiches in my head and an f’d up finger.

Really strange, because I don’t remember a thing. One minute I am sitting at the bar having a pleasant conversation, the next thing I know I am being picked up off a bloody floor.

I’m told I started coughing and stood up and then went down for the count. No idea what is up with that.

I didn’t go to the hospital last night as suggested, but when I woke this morning my finger was throbbing. I tried to take the bandage off, but the slightest touch brought on searing pain. My head looked ok, as that wound had already scabbed over. But I walked over to the hospital convienently located in my neighborhood to get my pinky looked at.

Of course, they just ripped the bandage right off which was incredibly painful and started some pretty impressive bleeding. After cleaning it up I could see that I didn’t have a cut finger, rather it was as if some had taken a filet knife and sliced an inch off. Sorry to say, when the doc started probing around I screamed like a banjee. Worse pain I can remember. So, they wrapped it up and I go back Monday for another looksee and cleaning. Which means I get to re-experience the joy of having the bandage removed.

The also stiched up my head which comparitively speaking was a piece of cake. And three injections in the ass. Not my idea of a great Saturday morning to be sure.

If there is a silver lining, it occurred to me that if death comes like a blackout it won’t be bad at all. One minute you are there having a nice chat and the next your gone. No worries at all.

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