Slammed in the face and punched in the gut with a reality I have been avoiding, denying for the past 7 years. I came face to face with the stark reality that my denial had gone beyond my dad's passing 20 years ago, which as I now finally start to come out of denial, is more than a major hassle in a post 9/11 world to people who have no empathy for grief denial. But this is about my #ICE, my emergency contact who has been for ages, #ScottGulyash. He's always been there for the dead battery, flat tyre, those kinds of things. In fact, it was when he didnt respond to a call for help that alerted me that something was up. Too late? We'll never know. I was never allowed to use what clout I do have to move Scott out of where he was at to where I could guarantee best care. That one is not on me. My conscience is forever clear that Scott was to be moved to UM the next day. But that us water under the bridge gone around the world millions of times. So after possibly inhaling toxic chemicals, becoming unable to breathe, coughing, unable to talk, I handed my phone to the intake worker, who asked me if she should call Mr Gulyash right away. Almost 8 years later, several handsets later, and I never took Scott out as my emergency contact. I was paralyzed. Who do I have? I suddenly became so mad at Scotty, for dying. We were always there for each other. That one time, he kept it a secret and I found out too late. Scotty had been such a wonderful friend to have when Justin died unexpectedly in a car crash on 02/01/2010. The hard reality of being alone just hit hard. Everyone is gone. 💔💔 (at Northwest Medical Center) https://www.instagram.com/p/CZm4Q9FFLNe/?utm_medium=tumblr