|Oh God, I'm starting to bore myself.
||[Feb. 2nd, 2006|12:51 pm]
|||||Dresden Dolls - Good Day||]|
How have you all been? I've really missed my LJ pals.
Here's another tragic tale of woe.
I know a few of you guys have been wondering where I've been. Just for the record, I can barely type due to fucked-up motor skills so please excuse any spelling errors.
I've just experienced the two months of my life. It all started so innocently - a Tuesday night at Revolution in the QMU with Fred, Jim and other assorted randoms. I remember eveything up to a point in incredibly lucid detail - I wasn't drinking very much as I had an obligatory tutorial on Wednesday morning. I remember dancing to Peaches, and pestering the DJ with requests for Hole. Then, like a click of a finger, blankness. The next thing I recall is waking up in hospital on Sunday morning in more pain than I thought possible.
Apparently I left the union alone and began to walk. I would never have been so stupid, even if I was hammered. According to the police on my case, it looks like a crude drink-spiking.
I was found on the hood of car next to the Western Infirmary, with my skull bashed in. I had lain there between two and eight in the morning and lost five pints of blood. I had a cerebral haematoma, ie a blood clot in my head, and needed massive brain surgery. Whoever cracked me on the head had stolen my bag and left me there. From the picture the police have built up, I was followed, whacked and dragged into an alley behind the mortuary, where I was robbed and assaulted. My knees and hands were ragged, so it appears I'd attempted to crawl to the hospital. A nurse found me and rushed me to the OR. I very nearly died, and narrowly escaped brain damage and paralysis. In a way I'm lucky as hell. My head is going to be fucked up for a few months though - on top of the pain, I find it really hard to concentrate, and my vocabulary has dissolved like a morass of alphabet soup. Finishing university this year isn't looking like a sure thing.
Those of you who are used to my long blonde locks are in for a surprise - the left side of my skull is shaved with a nasty scar. At least I'll no longer look out of place on the Partick buses! My eyes were bright red too (the blow nearly knocked them out!!) but they're fading. My rib cage, arms and legs are really sore but they'll heal. What I'm most gutted about is my furry leopard print jacket - it's drenched in blood so the police have taken it off me *sniff* There are, however, advantages to a week and a half in hospital - I lost a stone (although the evil nurses with the liquid protein soon fixed that), I didn't smoke, and I didn't spend any money.
To sum it all up - I'm slowly getting better in the cranial sense. I can't move around very much or walk very far, or see too clearly, but I'm hoping that some practice will sort me out. I'm living with my folks again because I'm mortifyingly incapable of taking care of myself.
I'm fucking raging because before this happened I was doing so well! I was eating more, becoming less entrenched in bad food behaviour. Now I'm back to being Puking Girl. My weight's gone from 117 before hospital, to 96 in hospital, to 112 before they let me leave, to 102 since I got out. Goddammit!
I'm sick of my own whining. I'll sign off now. Hopefully I'll become more of a regular feature (with more than whiny tales of tragedy) since I now have internet access again. I'm getting sleepy, so I'm going to curl up with a Buffy box set.
Glittery hugs and leopardy kisses,