Chapter 31
Journal Entry for Thursday January 29, 1998
Brad is still mad at me for my mini-interrogation last Friday. He has been acting stranger than normal though. I guess I'll find out why in time.
I haven't noticed any more amitriptyline missing, so I'm assuming mom and I were successful. At least for now.
Mom brought up a subject that I don't much want to discuss the other night. She mentioned setting up an appointment to go see that neurosurgeon, Dr. Ultameier, again, so we could talk about getting those bullet fragments removed.
I don't even want to think about all the complications that could arise during brain surgery like this. I mean, what if one of the surgeons makes a mistake, and winds up damaging my brain and turning me into a vegetable for the rest of my life? What if it messes up my spinal cord or something and I'm paralyzed? What if something causes my brain to start bleeding? What if it affects my memory or my motor skills?
Of course, mom had answers (or should I say questions) to all those questions. What if it doesn't? What if it helps you feel better? What if they don't remove the bullet pieces?
So, like it or not, I go see this Dr. Ultameier on February 3, this next Tuesday. Yeah, I have a jam packed day that day. I go see Dr. Ultameier at 9:30 in the morning, Dr. Mabry (the nose doctor) at 1:00, and Dr. Johnson.
That last doctor is a new one. I'm going to see her about my asthma, which mom seems to think has been flaring up lately. Which it has, even though I'll never mention that to anyone else.
I can still remember when my asthma was really bad as a little kid. I remember how scared everyone, my self included, was whenever I'd have one. It's like trying to breath through a straw while you have a finger covering the other end of the straw. (If you don't believe me, try it).
I think I even still have some of those Albuterol inhalers someplace. Well, maybe I should say mom still has them. That stuff tastes so nasty sometimes, but I guess I can't complain about it too much if it keeps me breathing.
A thought just occurred to me the other day. In just under a couple of years, we're going to be in a whole new century. The one thing I don't understand, is those people who make the argument that the 21st century doesn't begin until 2001. That's like saying the nineties are the years between 91 and 99. What's 1990? It's not part of the eighties, that's for sure.
Anyways, I guess I'll get off my soap box now and go to bed and try to get some sleep.
-Randy
A/N: Please R&R!
Thanks for reading.
Oh, and by the way, the reason I'm updating all my stories today is because I have to have yet another surgery done on my nose. This is supposed to be the final one though.
-Yours truly, Randy Taylor
