Zak fell on the fist of a Pimp.

So

Now that I have Zak nestled comfortably in one of the upstairs bedrooms of my house, and I have my family lounging in my living room, I can semi-joke about this week's events.

It's still not funny, but since Zak's cracking jokes, I guess I'll eventually find it amusing. In ten to twenty years.

On Wednesday afternoon I got a text from Zak: "I had quite the adventure this morning. Call me."

Thinking he'd discovered some new cranny of SF, I called, smiled the hello, and asked after his mysterious message.

Dialogue as follows:

Zak:
"So I'm walking to work this morning and I see this guy yelling at this woman. It sounded like he was her pimp (edited explicatives) ... Well, I turned the corner and thought, 'Zak. You can't just walk past that.'"

[Pause: Kellie's internal monologue: But you DID, right????]

Alas

Zak:
'So I went back and said, 'Excuse me ...'"

[cut out a lot of dialogue between Zak and pimp]

"He stepped toward me. I stepped back. I woke up [two?] hours later: hospital lights, strapped to a table, neck brace, blood ... the whole movie-scene."


....
So apparently he had a seizure after the pimp knocked him for a loop and woke up in the middle of those movies where they're rushing you down the hospital corridor and someone's yelling, "HOW MANY FINGERS?!?!?" and shining a light in your eyes to make sure your pupils are dilating.

(i may be over-dramatizing. but it's not likely)


----

Needless to say, I started bawling on the phone and booked it to SF two days later, a wreck and a mess until I looked at his swollen lip and thought, "It could be so much worse."


I've never felt so grateful to see another human being in my life.
And I felt his life fiercer than ever: valued the light in his eyes and the heart in his chest and the laughter that made his swollen lip flush and made my soul sing.

But don't tell him I said so. I'm supposed to be the strong warrior who has nerves of steel and can withstand anything.


---

love's a funny thing.