It was still dark outside when my phone dinged the next morning with an early morning text from Kendra.
“You still alive? How’s everything going with your cowboy?” she wrote.
I tried to unlock my phone with my bandaged fingers. But try as I might, my phone would not unlock. My head and hands both ached terribly, so I got up and slipped into the bathroom to find the Tylenol. But after several failed attempts, I wasn’t able to open the Tylenol either.
I could not stand feeling so helpless, I was overcome with anger that I threw the bottle at the wall, causing it to explode all over the bathroom.
Marcia knocked on the door. “Need some help?” she whispered.
“I can’t use my own f*cking phone, and I can’t get the g*ddamn Tylenol open!" I growled angrily. "Also, I am pretty sure I’m going to vomit and I can’t even hold my own hair back!”
Marcia opened the door, retrieved the bottle, and began picking the pills up off the floor.