Other articles by Kim Smith:

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When Adam Thran pulled a gun from the back of his pants and fired it, Tucson police Officer Shawn Ramsey ducked behind the closest thing to him — his motorcycle — and fired back.

When Thran continued shooting, Ramsey fired one more shot, then got on his police radio and yelled for help.

Moments later, it was over. Thran was on his way to University Medical Center. Three police bullets had ripped through his chest and stomach.

He lived. The 25-year-old man spent six weeks in a medically induced coma; underwent nearly a dozen surgeries; lost his gallbladder, several feet of his intestines and 60-plus pounds; fought off several potentially deadly infections; and contracted hepatitis C.

But he lived.

The question now is what should come next for him.

David Berkman, chief criminal deputy county attorney, believes Thran should go to prison.

Thran was indicted by a Pima County grand jury on 14 counts of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon and four counts of endangerment.

Suzanne Crawford, assistant public defender for Pima County, says her client has suffered enough and would die in prison.

Her client doesn't remember what happened, but he's willing to plead guilty — as long as he is guaranteed probation.

"Adam has been disabled," Crawford said. "He will never be a productive, healthy member of our community again. His life span likely has been shortened, and he's vulnerable to infection and injury. He is living his punishment."

Because of his condition, his medical bills are "exorbitant," she said, ticking off a list of pills and other medical necessities that he will face for however long he lives.

Neither Crawford nor Thran could estimate the cost, because most of his expenses are now paid by his private medical insurance.

But taxpayers will have to pick up all of the cost if Thran goes to prison, Crawford said.

State prison officials were unable to comment on any extra costs of incarcerating someone in Thran's condition, but they said that if the judge sends him to prison, they'll accept him.

Thran said that until May 25, 2006, he worked from sunup to sundown running his own business out of his mother's house. He became a licensed electrical contractor at the age of 19.

"I wanted to be a Kelly Electric," Thran said, referring to a major Tucson business. "I wanted to be a big, non-union company. I wanted to have lots of company trucks and lots of shops."

By the time of the shooting, though, Thran had overextended himself. His three company trucks had been repossessed, and he had to let all of his employees go, except for his mother, Patricia Thran.

He acknowledges that he was depressed. But whether that had anything to do with the shoot-out, he doesn't know. He said he doesn't remember.

"It's kind of hard to wrap my mind around the fact that I'm supposed to be a criminal," Thran said. "I can't tell you why it's happened. It's just not my nature."

Thran had a concealed-weapons permit and had taken gun-safety classes. He said he always had done everything "by the book."

But what he knows about the event has come straight out of the police reports, he said.

A clerk at the gas station at North Stone Avenue and Drachman Street told police that a woman dropped Thran off shortly after 6 a.m., and he spent 15 to 20 minutes in the bathroom.

Thran got a drink and some magazines, but instead of paying, he kept looking outside. The clerk noticed he had a gun, so when Thran asked him how much money was in the register, the clerk called 911.

Thran then walked outside.

Officer Ramsey told investigators that he was pulling into the station when he saw a man matching the gunman's description flailing his arms and walking toward a customer at the gas pumps. Worried for the customer's safety, Ramsey said, he ordered the man to get on the ground with his hands up.

Ramsey had just stepped off his motorcycle when the man grabbed his gun from his waistband and fired it, the officer said. After Ramsey fired a second shot, the man ran through Pima Community College's Downtown Campus toward a nearby motel, where he was confronted by a number of officers. He was shot when he opened fire again.

Thran now spends his days in a hospital bed, watching home-improvement programs in what was once his mom's home office.

Next to the bed is a portable toilet that must be kept close by, and a bookshelf covered with pain pills, antidepressants, laxatives and an anti-nausea medication.

Between the bullets and infections, his stomach is a mess. Most people have several layers of skin, fat and muscle cushioning their internal organs, but Thran is left with a single layer of synthetic mesh and skin.

His intestines, which can be seen pulsating through the thin membrane, were so torn up that he was on a liquid diet for more than a year.

Thran lives in constant fear of something puncturing his stomach or his intestines. Buttons, zippers and elastic bands are out. "Any little rub on my stomach can cause a hole," Thran said.

Also forbidden are tortilla chips and other sharp foods. Constipation is a life-threatening condition. He was told his stomach might not stand the strain if he lifts anything heavier than a gallon of milk.

"I can't sleep more than an hour at a time when it's dark," Thran said. "I have nightmares about things that could happen or about things that happened in the hospital."

A nurse visits Thran every other week. During the weeks in between, he puts a protective covering over his stomach, tapes his jeans closed and visits his doctor.

Patricia Thran is terrified by what could happen to her son if he goes to prison. "All he has to do is get punched once, and that's the end of him," she said.

Judge Hector Campoy has agreed to indefinitely postpone Thran's trial in Pima County Superior Court. He gets updates on Thran's progress from Crawford, county Pretrial Services and medical records.

Crawford is convinced that Thran had some sort of psychological breakdown and didn't intend to hurt or kill anyone.

"This is not a criminal. There are acts he's responsible for, and he's willing to accept responsibility for them, but to send him to prison is to ask him to pay for the crime with his life," Crawford said.

Berkman is willing to negotiate a plea agreement, but only one in which Thran accepts some prison time.

"He doesn't get a pass because he got so injured as a result of his own actions," Berkman said. "He could have killed a police officer."

If Thran doesn't sign a plea agreement, he'll be put on trial as soon as he can physically withstand it, Berkman said.

If Thran's doctors decide he never will be well enough to go to trial and Crawford asks Campoy to dismiss the case, Berkman said the county will fight it. Shooting at police officers simply isn't acceptable, Berkman said.

Thran said that if he ever does improve, he wants to visit churches and schools to warn people that one lapse of judgment can lead to death — even if he can't remember his own lapse.

"God has to be looking out for me for some reason, because so many things have happened to me, and I'm still here," he said.