and the guy behind the counter is pistol-whipped and left bleeding on the floor. Several things happen at once. My vision blurs as the pain hits me head-on. I'm bleeding out. I do not want to die on a dirty fucking floor. I feel someone take off my coat and wrap something around my arm. It feels tight. I hear sirens and people rushing to help me. Then...the world goes dark.

When I open my eyes again, I see lights flashing over me. I'm on a gurney, and there are several people around me screaming and barking orders. I try to listen to what they are saying, but the pain is so intense, I can't breathe, and when I try to move my fingers, nothing happens. I try tomonth of rehab, and as I sit on the edge of my hospital bed looking at where my hand used to be, I am terrified of what happens next in my life. I am a doctor, and it's easy giving someone else advice in this situation. It's not so easy taking the help of others when all I want to do is hide from the world.

My gut still churns every time I look at the part of my sleeve that I have pinned to my upper arm. I have purposely not thought about Lauren while I have been here, but now that I am going home, the reality is that I am returning to an empty house, and an empty bed. I thought about calling her a few