Tommy had left for San Francisco and I had no idea my life would no longer by my own before the sun set. It was just a dumb piece of plastic. And my bodily fluid. Just that one small line...or maybe it's two...and the flag was dropped on the race to the future. It was March 31st, a Tuesday, I think. And no, I'm not going to check, regardless of how easy it is. I'm going to let it be Tuesday. Tuesday in Santa Monica and a stranger in blue scrubs told me I had life in me but it was in danger and it was dangerous. How strange to think life can be dangerous to the living. I tucked across town to pack a bag for the ER and Tommy hero-marched out of the city by the bay, seemingly bending the wind to his will, so he virtually floated in to room 30 in the Cedar's ER. There are pictures of him kissing my forehead like a miracle was being caught on camera. And by the time I fell asleep on the 8th of April, I was dying.