A few days ago I found myself in a bed with a tube in my nose, and IVs in my arms, naked underneath plain white sheets and smelling of sweat. My throat was burning and I craved water more than anything. Once I realized where I was, I pressed the button that gets attention. I was refused water after pleading with the nurse in broken Czech. As it turned out I found myself in the hospital at the which I was born. A rebirth I guess. After a few phases of painful sleeping/waking, the pain in my nose became unbearable so I tugged on the tube. It seemed to give a little so I tugged some more and it started to come out. I keeped on tugging away despite the pain and was ever more and more surprised at the length of the beast that was inside me. When it finally was all the way out, I saw before me about three feet of black, narrow tubing. I was horrified by the length but even more horrified by the idea of it and worried that someone may be uspet that I had done so myself and want to shove that thing right back down my throat. It turns out they didn't and later let me have my precious water. I knew why I was there and was very disappointed. I wasn't supposed to be there. I was supposed to have been fading away in the deep comfort of sleep. Turns out the water I drank to down the pills caused the need to urinate and not wanting to be found reeking of urine, I attempted to make it to toliet. I must have caused quite a ruckus, at least enough to wake up a family member who immedately woke up another family member who had a method of transport at hand. All I remember from the point at which I goobled up at least <mod edit-gentlelady-methods> to the point where I felt the arid pain in my throat was hearing "Ne spi!" (in Czech means "don't sleep") over and over. I was told that I resisited going to the hospital and insisted that we could still make my brother's wedding that was to be later that day. I was refused that as well. I missed my brother's wedding. This is the second attempt at death in less than a month and a half. The first attempt involved a lovely <mod edit-gentlelady-methods> woke me up enough to call a friend. I didn't want to die alone. He didn't want me to die at all. I didn't die. I want to die. That makes me sick. A healthy person does not want to die. I don't care about being healthy. Now I'm back (prematurely) in the states and waiting for some one to cart me off to the looney bin. WooHoo!!