Where you been?

Third time in six months I've been to the intensive care unit visiting my wife. The first two times were from bad pneumonia; this time it was a stomach ulcer that burst and she had to have emergency surgery. The first time I saw her intubated I nearly lost it. Now it's not that bad once I realize why they do it. When you're in ICU they have you connected to so many machines and bags, it's hard to keep track of it all. People are dying a few rooms over and I can hear the family members crying. A priest comes in to comfort them. I pray this is the last time I have to come to this hospital because it is really beginning to worry me. I would rather be writing about annoying drivers and assholes on the road. I think back to simpler times, times when I had nothing to worry about but getting a slurpee at the closest Seven Eleven. Those days are gone. In between a hectic work week and demanding family, no wonder people are checking out early these days. And I am so sick about hearing about Michael Jackson. Give it a freakin' rest already. He was 90 pounds wet and ate once per day. And you wonder why he died? Please. Could someone do me a favor and punch his father in the nuts? He sounds like a real sanctimonious prick after promoting his new company while being asked about how his family took the death of his son. Give me a freaking break.