Something stuck me as odd.
I think I've scared myself. After my experience at the hospital Saturday night, which carried into the following morning, I think I've disturbed myself more than I ever have. I wasn't scared. Well, I was, but not in the way I should of been. Even though I was there for a possible heart attack, it didn't bother me that much. The only thing I was afraid of, not death, not loss, not even hell, was I couldn't see one thing, one last time. Maybe this is a foolish thing to be worked up about, but I'm not sure. For those of you who know me, I wasn't even concerned with what is going to be the first thing in your mind. I thought of something else entirely.