A lot of people talk about how they wake up in the back of an ambulance, they pass out, they wake up in the hospital, blahblahblah.  Everyone talks about waking up.  I wasn't so lucky.

After I was shot, I lay bleeding on the cold warehouse floor for almost ten minutes before Danny found me. I was awake, conscious for every minute of <i>my</i> journey to the hospital; I felt every step down the stairs to the street, I felt every jostle of the gurney, every sway of the ambulance as we turned corners.  I felt Danny trying not to squeeze my hand, and I could hear him praying in Italian.  I felt my arm most of all.  I felt the pieces of bone shifting, I felt the blood flowing, I felt the bullet right up until I felt the IV needle pierce my skin.

I didn't sleep much that first night.  The nurse came in twice, told me that I needed to relax, and I snapped something at him about trying to sleep when your blood's been replaced by adrenaline.

I didn't calm down until the first surgery, early the next morning.  Amazing what a little anesthesia can do…

Tags: dm, shot

My name is Kaile Maka.  I'm a detective with the 14th in New York City, and I am not one to suffer fools, gladly or otherwise-just ask Messer.  So, pretty much don't be stupid, and we'll get along.

Oh yeah, since it's probably going to come up, and I only want to explain it once: I was shot in the line of duty...let's see, five years ago now?  Anyway, I got hit in the elbow, at a bad angle; shattered my radius, and the bullet ricocheted into my ulna.  I was out of work for almost a year, in physical therapy for more than a year, and I had six surgeries, culminating in a solid titanium rod being inserted into my arm.

We never caught the guy who did it. 

I'd happily trade my gun and my badge for five minutes alone with the bastard, but until then, I'm happy with my job, and I'm happy with life.

Tags: dm, intro