I went to the hospital to celebrate my final day on my student health plan and entry into the uninsured. The occasion was of my own doing. A week ago, I thought it was a good idea to jump a speed bump at on my bike. It happened after a party at the Church where the drinks flowed, a joint kissed many lips, and the speed bump of course was not a rolling hill but instead a four-inch plastic plank bolted into asphalt. I flew, my helmet bashed asphalt and bounced off, my elbow skin caught and tore, and blood pooled. Fortunately, I finally found out what’s inside my first aid kit’s “Stop Bleeding Fast” pocket. Reckless, reckless sex, reckless driving, reckless eating, reckless this and reckless that. Everything causes cancer—from our car exhausts to the plastic Tupperware I microwave mac and cheese—so when I smoke a cigarette at least I know what’s coming. Reckless, nonetheless.

What I never seemed to realize until know is that I bleed too.