I don't know how to title this

(Written from Bob's POV during the alter ego challenge )

I don't know why, but for some reason I just recalled how often I bled for this band. It was a lot.

They asked me to replace Matt in 2004, two days before the video shoot for I'm Not Okay. I had one day to rehearse with them, then the video and then there were gigs to play. The thing is, I had a broken ankle at the time. I could barely close my hi-hat pedal, but I wanted to be in that band so badly, that I abandoned the tour I had been on as a sound guy and pushed through the pain. I didn't even tell them, nobody knew at the time, because I didn't want them to ask somebody else. It really fucking hurt, but I don't think you see it in the video.

Then there was Famous Last Words. That was probably the worst. They told me that they would cover me in some kind of gel for the last shot, but then someone yelled action and I never got it. I felt the heat halfway through the song, but we only had this one shot to get it right, so I kept playing. The inside of my pants had melted to my leg and given me third degree burns in the process (just FYI: first degree = reddening of the skin, second degree = blisters, third degree = deep tissue damage). I kept playing while my leg was burning. Afterwards the paramedics took care of it and I found a doctor to treat it in my hotel room, because I didn't want to go to a hospital. Unfortunately we still had to cancel the next show, which I hated. Anyway, in the end I needed a skin graft, but being the stubborn bastard that I am, I didn't let it heal properly and started playing again. The result was a staph infection and that was where things got really nasty. They had to cut away the infected parts to save my leg. It also gave me an abscess in my face, that put pressure on my brain. I couldn't move, I couldn't talk. If you ever wondered why there's an ice pack in my mouth in that one black parade picture, that's why. They took me to a hospital. When I tried to leave to play a show, they told me that I would die in two days if I didn't stay and get IV antibiotics. We cancelled three shows. That was the worst part.

Oh, and of course my wrist. The tendons to my ring finger had been frayed for a while, but eventually they started tearing until they were only hanging by a thread. But we were opening for Bon Jovi, I think it was the end of October, 2007. I wanted to play those two shows so badly that I didn't go to have it checked out. I could hardly hold my sticks. During the first show it tore completely and the tendon rolled up near the crook of my arm. I put an ice pack on it an played the second show, but we had to cut the set in half when I couldn't do it. I needed surgery to pull the tendon back down and fix it. I still can't grip my sticks like I used to, which is why I have to wrap them with tape until they become thick enough for me to hold on to. It doesn't hurt that much any more, but I still have problems with gripping something really hard.

On top of that there are all the bruises and scratches Frank gave me when he jumped into my drumset and the time he sliced my head open. But I can't really be mad at him, we all got our fair share of Frank-inflicted injuries. I think that was the worst of it. There's always blisters, bruises and general pain, but I have a very high pain tolerance and won't bore you with whining about it.

I was kicked out in 2010.

I do not allow fireplaces to be turned on or candles to be lit in my house because I'm so paranoid of fire now. And I have not listened to the records in a very long time. I am very proud of them, but the memories that come along with listening to them are too much for me. I wish it wasn't like that, but it is. You won't find one My Chem item in my house. Not one. I don't need to be bummed out everyday by hearing or seeing things relating to something that I thought would last forever.