The horror, the horror

On the one hand, I'm repulsed by my large facial injury. If you just focused your camera on my right cheek and eye, I'd look like Freddy Krueger. On the other hand, with Halloween approaching, this may save me money on a Halloween costume. Rick Baker couldn't come up with anything this realistic. I wonder if this physical disfigurement will cast darkness on my soul, like The Phantom of the Opera who gained a disposition as nasty as his facial injuries and became a bitter SOB.
Thanks to all for your well wishes. I hope I've responded coherently.

Vicodin

This stuff is strong. Every pill I take sends me to Alice in Wonderland for the next four hours. I feel like Grandpa Simpson, passing out intermittently with no warning (my favorite Grandpa Simpson quote: "I'm not wearing any underwear!").
The drugs may also be responsible for my constant feeling of deja vu. When I was in the hospital, I had this unshakable feeling that I had dreamed about the entire accident weeks earlier, that I had foreseen the dog and my bike accident and all that. And I understood, for a second, how it is in Greek myths that some character would have their fortune told and would still wander blindly into their fate. You don't realize what you were dreaming about until it actually happens to you. I felt that I had dreamed about something bad happening to me, and I knew it related to my bike, and I knew it involved a hospital, but it completely slipped my mind until I was lying there in the hospital, immobilized and looking up at the lights on the ceiling.
I tried reading my work e-mail and started to respond to a note, and then about ten seconds later I looked at what I had written and it didn't make any sense to me. Vicodin induces in me the same woozy hysteria that malaria pills do. I have to strain very hard to stay focused.

zzz

Modern pop music, and even alternative rock, bores me to death. I just realized this because I went to put on a CD to try and capitalize on my drug-induced head spins to mine any latent chemical creativity and found nothing to excite me. So instead I put on some Puccini (love Puccini) to try and cure this headache.
Maybe it's just my medication, but suddenly I felt this to be so true.