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My brain hijacked my thoughts the other evening while driving home from a strenuous roller derby practice. I was completely blindsided; given no choice, no forewarning.

Memories of Zev’s time in the hospital barraged my thoughts. Forceful, peircing, overpowering. All I could do was cry and scream, while griping the steering wheel, navigating the dark night.

As if a flood gate had been opened, the hot tears fell in a steady torrent for a good ten minutes. I was powerless to stop the flashes in my mind’s eye. Reliving a time I work hard not to revisit. The tests, the agony of waiting, her coma-like state.

Sobbing and shrieking in the cold void of my car. Made invisible by the pitch dark. I felt raw, powerless and angry.

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