shared September 10, 2010
I had been living in the apartment on Burnside just over a week. I had most everything put away. It was a few weeks after I had been shot once in each arm at the Mulholland Dog Park. As it had happened before, the bullets did not enter my body but I had those strange wounds. The one on my left arm was very small and I was able to extricate it fairly easily. These wounds are very similar to large bug bites or zits. The one on my right arm was different. It was deeply wedged in that spot where biceps, triceps, and deltoids come together. It was embarrassing because I had it for so long. No matter what I tried to do I just could not get the thing out.
That wound would take me months of manipulation to extricate. I tried to cover it up and I tried to ignore it. Every few days I would try to work it and clean it up. I just seemed to make it worse, and drive it deeper, with each attempt. It served as a very real reminder that I had been “chumped” and it was bound to happen again. I wondered when this very bizarre nightmare chapter of my life was going to end.
Little did I know that my suffering was really just beginning to become extreme.