I often lay in bed, imagining putting my head in a vice. The vice coming down, cracking my jaw, giving at least some relief. If nothing else, it might move the pain elsewhere. I think about these scenarios all the time, obsessively; I can't help myself, the throbbing is insistent. At least inventing these scenarios gives me some sort of escape. I think about taking a hammer to my jaw, about running a screwdriver through the abscess, about slamming my head against the wall until I can't feel a thing. Occasionally I doze off-I haven't slept more than an hour in four days-and then I dream of the pain as a worm, inching its way up through my jaw, burrowing itself into my cerebral cortex. All these scenarios-I guess you could call them the opposite of positive visualization-don't help a bit, but at least they pass the time.

The dentist at the clinic joked, "bad month." No shit. Three weeks ago I broke my leg in two places, putting me in a cast for what the doctor says might be up to six months. Five days ago, I got an ache in the right side of my mouth; it quickly became worse than the broken leg. Next day, it looks like a golf ball is lodged in my face. I look like a deformed Jay Leno. Shit, I can barely feel my leg anymore.

Yesterday I went to the poor folk's dental clinic, they tell me it's an abscess. Too swollen for them to operate, they give me a scrip for antibiotics to reduce the swelling and Vicodin to ease the pain. Vicodin won't do a damn thing, but there's nothing to be done: you can't exactly tell a medical professional that you've found, from personal recreational research, that what you need is Oxycontin.

Three days on, and the antibiotics aren't doing a single thing. The swelling has only gotten worse. I can barely open my mouth; I eat beans one at a time out of the other side, and even moving my jaw that small amount is nearly unbearable. I pass my days minute by minute, and though I've never been more attuned to the passage of time, I'm completely removed from it. Lie down, try and watch the TV for as long as I can concentrate-somewhere around 35 seconds-take a couple of Vicodins and six over-the-counter sleeping pills, which usually knocks me out for 30 or 45 minutes. Get up, take a leak, look at the Internet, ignore email, crack a beer, take four swigs, try to wash out my mouth with Aspirin and salt and warm water, sit in front of the TV again for another minute or so, take a few more sleeping pills and try to sleep again. Every once in a while I'll try to jack off, but I can't even muster the concentration to do that. My life has been on this repeating hour-and-30-minute loop for days now, and the loop seems to be only getting shorter.

26 April 3:05pm

I've never had suicidal impulses before, but I often catch myself thinking about jumping out of the window. I don't really want to die, but maybe I could break the other leg, divert the agony from my head for at least a short time. I don't expect the pain to go away, it's a constant I'm living with. If I could just move it-even for a few hours, to get some rest-that would be enough. I want to run my fist through a wall and pull out drywall like I was the Hulk, engage in pure, primal acts of destruction. Smash chairs against the wall, just to watch them be destroyed. Break windows, throw this monitor down the street, slam my head bloody against the nearest blunt object--it wouldn't give me relief but at least it would be a diversion.

Good thing I'm still relatively young. I'm on enough prescription and non-prescription medication to kill a moose. Vicodin, Amoxicillin, Aspirin, Sominex, Budweiser, Early Times, and a bottle of Liquid Codeine I was given by my friend Andrea, who is basically a walking Mexican pharmacy. Taken repeatedly, in 45 minute-to-1 hour increments. I can't tell if any of it is helping, but it's better than the alternative.

26 April 6:06pm

Was just watching the news. Terror alert is red. They're still doing that? Of course they won't tell us what the details of the alert are, just that we should be scared shitless. Well, mission accomplished. Got a call from the dentist earlier. Told him, as best I could through this lifeless jaw, that the swelling has only gotten worse. He said that if it doesn't get any better, an oral surgeon will have to drill directly through my face to take care of the abscess. So much for ever getting laid again.

26 April 6:46pm

The pain has let up for a few minutes, become more of a core numbness, a phantom wound-it's still there, but I'm removed from it, like people who say they've hovered above their lifeless bodies in the operating room. I don't know if 'numb' is the right word for it. The abscess still hurts, but it's as if could only feel the pain's most inert core. It starts tiny--a pinprick inside the bone itself--that resonates out, further out, a murmur reverberating through the depths of the Universe.

26 April 10:58pm

I can't handle this any more. I'm calling a cab to get to the ER. Go ahead and drill through my face, whatever's necessary to end this. I found $2.87 in change under the bed, at least what I could reach, laying down on the ground and snatching at the change with my crutches and a piece of cardboard torn off the case of Budweiser. That brings me to a grand total of $30.87. Enough to get me to the ER, if not back, but I'll deal with that then.

More awful scenarios swirling through my head. Watched a fox attack and rip a crippled deer to shreds on Animal Planet. What does an animal do when they're suffering like this? When they get abscesses, when they break bones, when they lose a leg? What kind of unattended pain did that deer endure before it expired?

27 April 1:06am

Startled awake by an muffled rumble following a faint boom, and the exhalation of metal yawning before collapsing to the ground. People are out in the streets, yelling, unleashing whooping moans. TV's getting no channels, Internet is down--goddammit, my crutches are on the other end of the room. How did they get there? I've been blacking out lately, guess the pills and liquor are taking a toll. I'll wake after mere minutes of sleep and not remember how I ended up in bed. The throbbing is back--deeper, more insistent than before, as if the chaos outside is jarring it to attention. When this sort of pain becomes your companion, it becomes embodied--a pustule mass with a spiteful personality. I'm hearing sirens, cacophonous commotion--going to drag myself to the window and see what's going on out there.

27 April 1:23am

Inched my way to the window with one arm on the wall, making small steps with my good leg, but lost my balance. My reaction was instinctual: threw out my other leg, and landed with full weight on the cast. A sharp pain spiraled up my bones, growing in force and velocity with each corkscrew twist. Laid there for a few moments to get my bearings, and crawled the rest of the way to the window; couldn't see a damn thing outside. Had to close the window, but the pungent, syrupy smoke is still creeping thorough the cracks. I can make out flames in the distance. The screams have given way to honking car horns from vehicles fixed in once place, no way for them to get away. I imagine it's an endless snake of cars, people stuck, immobile, escaping from what? No cell signal; still no TV or Internet; so much for calling a cab to get to the ER. I'll never make it. I'm taking an inventory--two half-full bottles of liquor, three Budweisers, 11 Vicodins, some ramen and cans of beans, $30 or so. I'll make do. I don't have any choice but to stay encamped in this room, as I've been for weeks, with no escape in sight.