It’s the damndest thing. My sociology class showed Michael Moore’s SiCKO. Now, I’m not what a person would call a Michael Moore fan. But afterwards, I was getting really bad heartburn. I couldn’t imagine that watching his movie could do that, so I just figured I added something new to my diet. I ate my standard, but sure enough, we watched the last half of the movie the following class, and I’m dying throughout the whole thing. I manage my way through it and pack my stuff up. I’m all but limping out of class. My palms are drenched. My breath was getting caught in my throat. As soon as I get out of the building, it hits me along with the coldness of the air. My arm goes numb. My eyes just blur, and I collapse. Apparently my head bounced off of the cement when I had a friggin heart attack.
As I was sitting in the hospital, wiring all over my body, beeping ticking along in my head, it struck me. My own little eureka as I sat there with a catheter way up there where it still haunts me. I didn’t account for the 2 straight hours of salt streaming in. Grain by grain along with every mother frikkin word spoken by that movie.
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