Martin's still unconscious. Nick told me that there really isn't anything they can do to bring him out sooner. They don't have the equipment for it, and Nick's specialty isn't in head trauma. I spent most of the day with Martin, just being next him. I sang what little songs I knew to him, like lullabies. Adult lullabies, I guess though. I listen to a lot of grunge and metal and, well, things you shouldn't be singing to your kids. But the songs I did sing to him were pretty, at least to me. They're violent, but they usually end up being romantic in a twisted sort of way.
My day wasn't exciting at all. I can't fill up a page like he can. He was always doing things, going places and killing zombies. Lots of action, like a Hollywood movie hero. Me though, all I can do is talk about being in a hospital bed with my leg in a cast. I guess I can talk about the cast.
As I said yesterday, Sandra is doing an excellent job drawing on it. She does all sorts of flowers. Not just random flowers you see in stickers pasted on a girl's folder. Real flowers, like azaleas and daffodils and roses and snap dragons, drawn artistically positioned like a gardener would a landscape. She rounded up everyone at the hospital to sign my cast, and then drew more flowers, vines, trees, bushes and grass around their names. I tried telling her not to put so much work into it, because once my leg heals, the cast's just going to get sawed in half and thrown away. She told me she wasn't drawing the flowers for them to live forever; they were there to serve a purpose for now, to make me happy, like real flowers do. They die, but we grow them and cultivate them and give them to the ones we love to make them happy for a little while. Those die, and we do it all over again. She's got quite a head on her shoulders.
I could talk more about myself. My last name is actually Healy, and yes I'm Irish if you're wondering. I know Martin mentioned my height earlier, but he was off. I'm actually 5'2". He wrote about me saying that I pitched in college. That's correct, as I was a pitcher for our softball team. He also mentioned that I was studying graphic design. I was actually majoring in it. I wanted to go into advertising as well, and even wanted to take up photography. I just think taking the way you view the world and framing it for other people to see is a great way to express yourself and a wonderful art form in its own right. I got the inspiration from my grandmother, by the way, who always loved drawing and taking photographs. I told Dustin and Carmello to keep an eye out for a camera the next time they did a supply run, because I wanted to take pictures of this cast before it got destroyed. Sandra may not care about her work being thrown away, but I do.
Hmm... I could talk about what I ate today. Augustina made spiced oatmeal with nutmeg and cinnamon for breakfast. It was actually pretty good, and I hate oatmeal, but honestly I can't afford the luxury of being picky. For lunch, it was fried SPAM sandwiches with some kind of amazing ketchup sauce she made. Dinner was pasta and mushrooms, and she made it so colorful using several different kinds of noodles. I'm telling you, that woman's a genius in the kitchen!
What else can I write about? Our small little group of people are doing what they can to survive. The hospital's secure with boarded up windows, but Johnathan's talking about trying to set up some kind of perimeter around us to make it even more safe. Dustin and Carmello are planning another supply run soon, not exactly sure when. Francois usually spends a few hours out of each day teaching Sandra things she probably already knows, while Hector's trying to train her to be a lawyer in the making. I have to laugh at that. I'm not sure there exists a purpose for lawyers anymore. I have no idea Cheyenne does. I don't really like her much. She's never been that friendly to me, probably because she thinks she's so much better than I am. I dunno, but I just don't like her. Sandra keeps me company when Sandra isn't drawing on my cast. Martin's still in his coma, and I'm still waiting for him to come out of it.
Well, I guess I managed to write more than I thought I would. Sorry if this kinda bored you. Maybe Martin will wake up tomorrow, and you can go right back to reading about him killing zombies again! Hehe...
He'll wake up tomorrow...
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