Ok, I promise that SOTB.COM isn't going to become one of those "oh, I'm dealing with this ailment. Here is my story" type of sites. More power to them, but that's their lane and I have no intentions of going in that lane, not completely. Believe it or not, I do actually like to keep some things close to the chest, amongst family and whatnot. Mama Young didn't raise someone who'd spill ALL the tea or whatever.
Anyways, I'm here at Holy Cross Hospital. A smaller Express Care room. It's about 4:45 when I get the news. "So, Mr. Speed. You do have Stevens-Johnson." My first reaction was, for real, "oh shit. Am I gonna die?" The doctor, this older white gentleman, he told me no. That I got in here, thanks to Raquel keeping tabs on me, in the nick of time. However, then he hit me with a stunner of sorts.
"You're probably gonna have to stay in here for at least a couple days to get things a bit more under control."
That was Monday. Today, I'm (hopefully) headed home after observations. I'm still kind of janky, but not completely screwed. So, small victories. All in all, this has been really sobering. Things like this put everything in perspective. They also make you want to make sure you're doing what you want and need to in this life. With that said, I'm less likely now to just idle than do what I need to/want to with my life. Kicking ass and taking names, being awesome AND happy. This is a new era of Speed. Still snarky and witty and stuff, but less..."unhinged" while still being just as "I'ma say what I want."