Wow ~ four days since the last entry. It doesn't seem as if that much time should have passed by. Thursday dragged by as we waited for the doctors to get around to telling us that everything was o.k. and Friday flew by as we went to look at the car. Yesterday kind of flew by too ~ C.M. actually went to work for about 2 hours to check up on a few things. Sheesh.

So. Here's what I was told about what happened:

C.M. was heading south on I 65 and had just passed the Portland exit. He was in the outside lane and a white semi was in the inside one ~ and the semi decided that it wanted C.M.'s spot. It crossed into his lane and forced him off onto the shoulder of the road once and then a second time. That's when C.M.'s car went off the high shoulder and he lost control. He ended up rebounding back under the trailer, where the last set of wheels hit his car. He says that he might remember rebounding back from that and hitting the back of the trailer. In any case, according to what he was told, he spun several times before he was slung off the road.

It appears that my errant psi sense kicked in again when he called that night ~ He hadn't gotten three words out when I said, "So ~ which hospital do I come to?" I didn't even think about what I was saying ~ and all he could say was, "uhhhhhhh....". I really wish I had more warning than that. I guess that can be a goal to work on, huh? (Just as long as crap doesn't start happening just because I said that.)

I thought I had everything under control when I got to the hospital. I really didn't. It was just hidden away in some little cranny that I've probably forgotten about instead of not knowing. I sat there on simmer for a while then it went to saute'. It got to the point where I could not even understand why I was there because whenever he needed the least little thing, he looked to his mother. That combined with the way that I was told about the accident and the way I've been treated in the past eventually...like I said, I thought I had some measure of control...

All she had to do was say one thing to me, "Are you all right?" That did it. I stood there and I cussed her out. "NO! I'M NOT ALL RIGHT! HOW CAN I BE ALL RIGHT WHEN NO ONE TOLD ME ABOUT THIS UNTIL 14 F****** HOURS AFTER THE FACT!" (I can't really remember what else I said ~ I think I went on autopilot. Later, all I could think was that I hope there wasn't anything in a 6 room radius with weak hearts.) I got even madder when she told me that she didn't even know I had a phone. I told her that wasn't an excuse ~ if my folks couldn't get me on the phone and couldn't come to my door themselves, they would send someone would break the damn door down if that's what it took to tell me what happened. In the end, I ended up leaving for about two hours. This was after I was finally told that I would bring C.M. home. I walked out saying, "At least I get to do f****** something!"

Despite my bout of anger, I know I changed. Not to many years ago, as soon as I got my in my truck, I would have started slinging all kinds of spiteful spells and crap. That was before the magick stopped working for me. Forget all this 'Fault of the Sword' or whatever that crap is ~ I truly believe that sometimes, if you go too far off the path, Whatever Names you know Them by do step in and intervene before something dreadful happens. I think I am just realizing that. When I went through that Crisis a few years ago, I was very hurt and angry. Confused. I would use whatever arsenal I had at my disposal. Thank goodness that the magick eventually came back.

Boy, that was a tangent, wasn't it?