Posted: 05/19/2014
I spent three days in the hospital following that whole ordeal where my face tripped and fell into D____’s fist. They wired my jaw shut, said it would be a few weeks before I could expect to chew or speak again. I don’t remember much of the pain; they’d given me a prescription for Tylenol 3, and for the first two weeks I tossed them back like they were Pez candies. One of the nurses gave me a pen and a pad of paper on my second day, once I was alert enough to know fully where I was and what had transpired. She told me if I needed anything to write it down, then she asked me if there was anyone they could get in touch with, and I tried to stop it, the shitty feelings bubbling up inside of me like acid-tinged anxiety, but I couldn’t. I started to weep openly, my body shak
