3 weeks ago, a guy I have met on Critical Mass has bits of his
skull driven into his frontal lobe with a 40mm CS grenade in Gaza. Parts
of his brain are subsequently removed.
[War: small numbers of friends dying against the backdrop of large numbers of strangers dying.]
2 weeks ago, one of my co-workers is suddenly operated on to have a tumor the size of an olive removed from her brain.
Last week my other co-worker's daughter whom I had just met was
broad-sided and taken to hospital with head injuries. She is just being
brought off sedation now, and is partially responsive. The vagaries of
survivor's guilt play on my relationship to my own injuries, and to the
fact that I had met her days before.
Today after
work, I bicycled past traffic that had been standing long enough for
people to be out of their cars looking for the holdup. An Alameda Co.
Sheriff was stationed at each intersection as far as I could see down
Mission Blvd. Minutes later, part of the 4 dead cops' funeral convoy
swept through. The sheriff's shutting off traffic showed only that they
were in charge, and they were unhappy. The convoy came in the opposite
direction from the stopped traffic.
The suit that saved me from MUCH greater injury.
No comments:
Post a Comment