More about the blood, and perhaps reasons why I'm not scared.

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OK, some of you may have read my discussion 'This may be a stupid question, but...' A whole lot of your responses were incredulous that I did not call the police. Because it is so hard for mylotters to read all the responses people leave, I don't think maybe a lot saw my reasons explained in a response to someone who had left a comment. Which is OK. I mean, what mylotter has time to read everyone's responses after they leave their own? So last night I said what the heck, and called a police officer in my church. Some of you might say, why didn't you call him when it first happened? Well, his jurisdiction is a city over from mine, and I don't know him well. But I called him, and he told me I did the right thing. Because there is no evidence of the crime, and because the apartment manager already knows about the situation, I've done all I can do. The police would have nothing. They aren't going to take a sample because there is some blood. While not a small amount, it doesn't prove a crime actually happened. But I am going to take pictures, and tell my manager if it isn't cleaned up next week, I'm going straight to the Health Department. Thanks to those of you who gave me that advice. Others wondered why I wasn't scared. My apartment complex looks nice and middle class. But it is a low income complex, and crime is no stranger to any apartment complex, including mine. There are some who don't care about their crimes, and it mars the place for the law abiding inhabitants who are just trying to raise a family peacefully. We have drug issues here, we have had some 'incidents.' I'm very cautious, but I don't think that is the reason I'm not scared. My couisin who thought she beat brest cancer discovered something. She is in her mid-thirties, married, with two young boys. She developed a cough, and her oncologist wanted to run a PetScan. The insurance wouldn't pay for it. Until four months later when the cough turned into coughing up blood. Then the insurance paid for it, and now we know the cancer spread to her hip, one lung, and her pancreas. She doesn't have much time now. Also, my grandpa, the only one I've ever known shouldn't make it to Christmas. He has dementia, diabetes, is losing blood, and has heart trouble. He gets a couple pints of blood every week. I saw him just yesterday after a three hour trip to his home. There is no dignity in death. So how can I be scared when two people I love are facing bigger monsters than a pool of blood? It's quite easy when I think about that.