“May I please go to the bathroom?” I asked the first doctor that I saw.
“I’m not stopping you, am I?” he asked, lighting up a Camel cigarette and casually blowing the resulting smoke right into my face. My eyes stung like hell, and I could feel my body slowly dying.
Nice one, doc.
Walking to the bathroom felt bizarre, as if someone had suddenly turned the gravity up 800%; I can’t describe it for the life of me, but it was as if I was on a different planet. It took all of my strength to move my legs to the bathroom; it was almost as if I had forgotten how to walk.
I feel like I’m carrying weights on my ankles!
Once I finally went inside, I locked the door and leaned my head against the wall to not seize out on the floor and hit my head repeatedly. I already had enough brain trauma
