I was 22 years old, slumbering in my bed beside my boyfriend one winter Friday night. 2:30 in the morning an old friend phones me. He’s at a party, drunk and has been in a fight. Someone took care of him with a wooden bat. I crawl out of bed and barely warm the car before driving across town to get him. Then I drove him to the hospital where his dislocated shoulder and broken collar bone was nothing compared to stabbings and gunshot wounds. We waited 2 hours in the emergency ward, until they could see him. I watched him sober up that night with the pain that he was in.