All I saw when I woke up was white. White walls, white ceiling, and a white door which opened, letting in the sound of a toilet flushing and very satisfied sigh. My dad ambled into view and took my hand, rubbing the palm gently.
“Oh, it’s good to see you awake. You really scared me there, asshole,” he said in his usual take-no-prisoners tone of voice.
“What happened?” I asked, still numb and groggy.
“You apparently caused yourself to bleed, stupid. They had to pump alcohol out of your stomach, and it had eroded your esophagoose, according to my nurse, Eve. Thank God she was there, young man, thank God, if God actually listens to you, heathen that you are.” My dad made the sign of the cross over himself. “You don’t remember getting your stomach pumped?”
“Nooo,” I said, still confused. “
