I'm in the infirmary at the Joe base. I have been ever since my mind left the body of Motormaster and returned to my own. It looks like most of the others who suffered from similar situations are back to their normal lives.
Not so much for me.
My thought process is fine, but the other effects are anything but fine. I could call the effects akin to a partial stroke. I can barely walk and my sentence forming skills are a bit of a joke right now. It takes me a full minute sometimes to say the most basic thing. I'm going through test after test. The doctors haven't said anything to me - yet.
I am grateful. My son is back, and he suffered no injuries from his ordeal. I'm in extremely capable hands, medically. And Sci-Fi has been nothing short of awesome. I'm lucky to have a friend like him in my corner.
And my typing skills are improving. It only took me five minutes to bang this out.
A nurse just came in.
Brilliant - more lab work.
That's all for me right now.
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About 20 years ago, my dad and I were rescued from certain death thanks to the Autobots. As I've grown up with them, they've quickly turned into part of my family. This is a blog about my life with the Autobots as well as my struggles to find a life outside as well.
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Spike Witwicky
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