Got a phone call at 2 a.m. this morning from Murray. He's in the hospital now from a heart attack. He phoned 911 when he started having the first symptoms yesterday. Doctors said he was about to have another, massive coronary.
Just two days ago I was talking with my mother about him, saying that I worry how long he's going to be around on this planet. He's got the perfect lifestyle for cardiac arrest or a stroke: high-stress at work followed by more stress at home, a junk food diet that he hasn't changed even after developing diabetes, no real exercise.
I spoke to Larry much later this morning and we both hope some good change comes into Murray's life as a result of this. He needs to stick around for his son and the friends who still really love him despite himself. I want to phone to check up on what his condition is, but I feel that might not be the thing to do since his wife might not be too fond of me.
Police came knocking on my door half an hour ago in referrence to a 911 call from the wild boys downstairs unit, which appears to be abandoned now. The window's been broken from the outside. The inside is trashed. The officer said it looked like no one had taken a bath or cleaned the place in years. I'm wondering if the worst is over now for that unit or if it's just beginning.
I must be positive. I must not think bad thoughts.
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