the story of my shootout

[pokerguy005]

Glad you are ok. Smoking certainly is hazardous to your health.

[eells]

pt2

i wake up at some point the next morning/day, surrounded by my mom, gf, the roommate who was with me that night, and i think a detective or 2, possibly someone from victim services or something like that.
'hey honey, how do you feel?'my moms voice is the first one i remember hearing.
'like i got shot,' slightly strained reply, im still working out the anesthesia. they chuckle. they call my attention to one of the things thats plugged into my arm. aside from the fluid iv, i also have a button that i can press to dose myself with morphine. fun! i get moved out of the icu room, upstairs to the trauma/rehab floor, where i get my own room (thank fucking god). to be honest the first 3 days are still pretty hazy. i assume the morphine button might have something to do with that. i remember looking down and seeing a big slice down my center. under all the bandages it looked like if i were to pull on the 2 sides, i would open back up. they stiched my abdomen muscles, but that was it. no visible stitches, staples, zipper or otherwise. something about cleaner healing. which is important cause i had holes in my GI tract. the bullet had gone through my abdomen, though both my upper and lower intestines, and out my back. off by half an inch and id need a colostomy bag for the rest of my life. there are these 2 'bullets,' as they call them, sticking out of the right side of my tummy. they basically looked like the rubber pumps they use to inflate the arm band when they take blood pressure, only a little bigger, they are clear, and they were sticking out of me and usually had blood in them.

i also have this tube sticking out of my nose. it went in my nose, down my throat, and into my stomach. the other end is hooked up to a vaccume pump and is sucking out a disgusting black bile out of my stomach. it hurts. im told im not allowed to eat or drink ANYTHING, they need to keep track of how much shit was getting pumped out of my stomach. i hate it. eventually it clogs and i learn how important the damn thing is. when we unclog it it feels like they remove the giant vice from my chest and im able to breath again. i still hate it. on day 3 i have a nightmare. 2 actually. 14 years of only remembering bits and pieces of dreams now and again and i have 2 nightmares in one night. most would attribute such a thing to stress, but not these. stress may have had a hand in it, but im pretty sure they were more a result of morphine. the dream was... different. the very fabric and substance of them was different. i stop the morphine. havnt had such an incident since. would be fine but it meant i needed non-narcotic painkillers for the duration of my stay at the hospital. the rest of which pretty much sucked. couldnt eat, couldnt drink, couldnt shit, couldnt really sleep (nurse comes in every 3 hrs to take vitals, then around 5 or 6 they start takin blood and doin rounds) could barely walk, and i have a fucking tube sticking out of my face making it uncomfortable to look around or frankly do anything. also its a teaching hospital. i get that they need to learn, that doesnt mean i was happy to be a guinea pig for a bunch of kids not much older than me who had no idea what they were doing. for the most part they were ok though(except for the time one tried to take my temp with a dirty thermometer, thank god i pay attention to where they were putting shit).
on the third day, 4th night i guess, i had a nightmare. 2 actually. now i know that might be expected for someone in my state, i knew immidetately it was the morphine. i hadnt had a nightmare in at least 14 years, and there are very few select times that i actually have memory of having a dream. these nightmares were completely different. they were so... not vivid but... i dont even know the word, they were different. their substance, their fabric, was not like any dream id ever had. told the drs the next morning there was no way i could stay on the morphine. they switch me to torredal(sp?) and i havnt had an expierence like it since.

i watch a lot of the food network, its the next best thing to being able to swallow. after a while the tube sticking out of my face starts to cause post nasal drip, allowing mucus to drip and crust and... well i think its enough to say it wasnt plesant, and frankly having that fucking thing in my face for 2 weeks was by far the worst part of the whole expierence(i mean, individually, not counting the event as a whole).

lulz alert: was the same floor as the shooter. walked by his armed gaurd and laughed. i get tv, internet, visitors, he gets handcuffed to the bed and celing tiles to count. on another walk on the other side of the floor, a cop sees me and pieces together who i am. i get kudos and encouragement from him and his partner.

my mother said something that really helped me one night. i was talking to her on the phone, about what happened and what it meant. shed always been against me carrying, and didnt much care for guns at all. "at first i had a hard time with the whole thing," she said. "why did he need a gun, why did you need a gun, what if one of you hadnt, would things have gone differently. but i realize now, and im glad you did. even like this, in a way its better for you. you werent just a victim, another statistic." and it hit me, she was right. even after everything, i was not just a victim. hell, not only did i get him back, hes in worse shape then me. i WON

the actual doctors are not only hard to get time with, they are very short on details. they dont really explain anything, and they never really give me any idea what was happening or why. thank god my gfs aunt is also a trauma surgeon, and was able to tell me more about what was happening, what they were doing, and why than anyone at temple ever did.

drs really want me to have a BM. i really want to eat. i tell them every time the day they let me put something in my mouth is the day something comes out my ass. eventually they let me have ice chips. i want nothing more than to tell them to fuck off. but so long with nothing im happy to have anything. but neither it nor the liquid diet they gave me next are enough to move anything through my system. finally, after a crushingly devastating delay caused by shitty chart reading, i get solid food. taste, meh. but it was probably most gratifing meal id ever had. i learn from gfs aunt that theyve been so hesitant to let me eat anything is cause theres like a 1 in 5 chance that i could burst my intestines back open. great. that doesnt happen. instead, i have a BM. win.

finally, after much pleading, begging, and probably more tears than i want to admit, they give me the ok to go home. the walk to the car is exhausting. in the car on the way back i realize how much thinner the air outside the hospital is. maybe not thinner, but less oxygen rich, and it becomes much harder to breathe. i finally get back to my moms, 27 pounds lighter, and with a giant slice down my center. i spend the next several months mostly sitting on the couch playing video games. i get up to eat almost every 2 hrs. with the exception of alcohol, i dont have any dietary restrictions.

police have no intrest in charging me with anything. had my ltcf and was threatned with deadly force, was self defence. 2 of the 3 kids were caught. they dont tell me much but i infer that while they know who the third is they dont wanna try a case that they arnt sure the charges are gonna stick. me and my roommate are both present at the trials as witnesses. first was the not-shooter. kid looked like trouble. had a laundry list of truency and petty crime. had the attitude of a hardened thug. might sound wierd, but i feel like he and probably the third had more to do with causing the whole thing. the shooter is 15 at the start, had a birthday in prison. according to the DA kid was trying to confess shortly after waking up. named names, expressed actual remorse. ended up being tried as an adult, and got 8-16, plus 5 on probation. sent em to a specfic facility for minors tried as adults.

landlord at dauphin wants to hold us to the lease. we settle out of court.

eventually i have the strength to make the trip to philly, back to the courthouse to try and get my gun back. i understand why they need to confiscate guns after a crime during the trial, etc. there are reasons, and while they didnt apply to my situation i understand why they are there. but i still didnt expect the property return process to be such a task. apparantly, i need to fill out a petition for return of property, have it notarized, and file it before being given a COURT DATE, where i need to appear before a judge to request my gun back. i was crestfallen. especially cause thats as far as i can go right now. see, whenever cops take anything, theyre supposed to give you a property recipt. with a property recipt number on it. which i never got. cause i was in the ambulance. i told my mom when i got home, the cops stole more from me then the criminal did. it wasnt till i learned that i needed a court date to have personal property returned that i felt like a victim. so as far as i know my gun is sitting in a file cabnet in an evidence locker somewhere.

[soberbyker]

For the content, its in the carry section.

If he didn't want it public, he shouldn't have posted it. Pretty much all sections of the site are upon to public view.

I hope it wasn't in the Lounge because he wanted it less public...

While I agree with the he shouldn't have posted .... yada yada yada, it's my understanding the lounge is only visible to registered users, is that not correct?

[Rosco the Iroc]

People read too much into your being out there then. When I was much younger and worked NX in the navy (2nd shift) I would be up at all hours and what the hell's wrong with BSing with a buddy on the porch? I feel for you and what happend.

[streaker69]

Wow. That was riveting. I've never been so glued to a post while reading anything on this forum...EVER. Holy shit, man. The jamming on third shot is alarming though. This story has me thinking about what I'm carrying when I gotta go to Philly for work.

It's possible that it didn't jam from a malfunction of the firearm, but of how it was being shot. Semi-Autos need a firm wrist to cycle properly. In the heat of battle he may have inadvertently "limp wristed" it causing it not to cycle properly.

He's a very brave guy for staring down a firearm and fighting it out, taking a bullet and continuing to fight. I'm glad he lived to tell the tail.

[Rydyth]

ended up being tried as an adult, and got 8-16, plus 5 on probation. sent em to a specfic facility for minors tried as adults.

Maybe a stupid question but this is years, right?

[TaePo]

I couldn't help but read your post with some emotional response.

I am glad you are ok. Everyone survived which is great. (I am not one to wish people dead but justice served for BGs)

Your experience is what I try to tell people about being armed. There are always the conscientious objectors that would rather die than 'take a life'. One, taking a life is incidental and not the primary directive of stopping a threat. Second, you might not die. Then, chances are, your assailant is not rich so a civil case won't help you pay the medical bills. Luckily, you made or are making a full recovery. But you also have medical bills, possible PTSD or some therapy both physical and psychological will be required.

Like you said, you might have needed a lifetime colostomy bag or maybe a few inches either way and your spine is severed.

I wish people (criminals and anti-gun people) could understand how horrible violent crime (not gun crime, mind you) is. Just as in warfare, for every killed in action there are several wounded. I think due to modern medicine, our latest war has it somewhere between 5 to 10 to one. I used 10 to 1 estimates when the news reported combat deaths and usually came close when the wounded in action reports came out. It was less in each of our prior wars, IIRC.

Blessings to you and your friends and family.

[The Hobbit]

glad to hear you are ok and that they did not try you with any crime. I hope you are able to get your property back from the city, but if nothing else there are other firearms out there that you atleast have the option to purchase in the future.

[photoshooter]

"i remember a nurses finger in my rectum, and i remember her telling me to be glad it was her and her tiny fingers..."

Did you get her number?


"landlord at dauphin wants to hold us to the lease. we settle out of court."

Maybe someone should have put something up his ass.


"on another walk on the other side of the floor, a cop sees me and pieces together who i am. i get kudos and encouragement from him and his partner"

As well you should. This is an amazing story and I'm very glad you're able to tell it in person. I think you handled the situation perfectly. Kudos for keeping your wits about you.
So I get that the police still have your P-11 but am I understanding correctly that you've been left with nothing? If so instead of ammo I'd be very happy to contribute to a fund for a replacement.

[coppery]

Wow man. You tuffed it out. You really handled that situation. I remember when I read about it last year, and I can tell you after reading your experience, I have no idea what I would have done in that situation if I had a gun that close to my face, let alone knowing that I have an extra hole in me. The fact that it turned out the way it did was a miracle, and knock on wood nothin worse happened.

Good luck gettin your gun back.