Pull me out of body don't want it don't want in.
Feeble frail and rotting descending I'm lost in
A structure that's collapsing don't want it cast into
Maker take the body don't want it wants me...
Spending my morning in a low-grade freak out. Not a full panic attack, just a nice even keel freak out...enough to keep the blood flowing fast, but not enough to leave me in a bathroom stall, shaking, rocking and mumbling various incoherencies...
I plan to start the morning off tomorrow with a few shots of rum. They say drink 24 ounces of clear liquid an hour before the tests. There is no further specificiation as to the *clear liquid*, so Bacardi clear qualifies in my mind. I do what I have to in order to get through my existence...don't judge lest you be judged yourself ;) The tests are all ultrasounds anyway, so my level of intoxication will have little bearing on the results.
I've had similar tests done in the past...not the TV ultrasound - my main reason for being drunk - but all kinds of these things before. And the trick is to watch the face of the technician while they are looking at the screen. Obviously, a technician cannot give you any diagnosis, and really, ethically, they shouldn't even tell you shit about what they see or think they see. They just know how to run the equipment, they aren't fully qualified doctors. But they've done a thousand of these things before...and their faces show when they see an anomaly. Especially a gross anomaly - something so obviously wrong that even I would know it if I saw it (and honestly...I look at the screen too and I couldn't tell you shit from a hole in the ground on those things. It all looks like nothing to me.) Also, if they keep saying, "Let me get another picture of this area...just one more. How about another one...just want to be sure..." then you know they see something.
Maybe the trick is NOT to look at their faces. Maybe just shut your eyes, turn away, turn on the ipod loud and try not to look at the screen. Maybe its better to not know....
*sigh*
I'll be ok. A little drunk, but otherwise ok. I know there's something wrong, I'm not sure if I'll like the *what* that turns out to be wrong, but there's not just a whole lot I can do about that now, is there? So I'll just toughen up and take it, and deal with it. After the alcohol wears off ;)
And every time I start to drown in my own little puddle of muck, I am reminded that things could be a whole lot worse....
One of my oldest friends (not age wise, but that too hahaha) and a regular reader and commenter on my blog - Blind Colorado Perv aka Ken - is having his second kidney transplant operation on Tuesday. While I do have his phone number, you can rest assured I won't call, due to my phone phobia... (Dont worry, my husband will call...we are not total cads, only mostly cads) But anyway, he comes by the blog every once in a while, so I'm gonna take my opportunity, if he does come by, to wish him and his sister (his donor) both the best on Tuesday. And a speedy healthy recovery. All that good shit. And I'd also like to say HEY KEN!! How about you don't fuck this kidney up this time??? ;) They work better if you don't keep poking at them with forks... I don't even know what that means, but it gives me a funny little mental image so I'm going with that.
I do miss my good friends...fuck I'd like to go back home to stay...
Well, shit for another day. I have to go to the liquor store to buy some rum now...
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2 comments:
Jesus CHRIST! What is it with all you people I love being big 'ol attention-seeking drama queens? Yall coulda just been rock stars, ya know. Trendy bars are much more fun places to hang out than hospitals. And I hear the pay is better.
Yeah, gonna be a helluva party over at University Tuesday. I've rounded up the whole gang & we'll be crashin the place. Hehe, you know most of em. So much for a hospital being a quiet place for resting. Greg & Maryann's vacation is coinciding. Talk about timing!
K...bought a bunch of tv dinners, DID NOT get the house cleaned like I wanted, DID get a new bottle of valium. Think I'm set.
Now...about this shit with you. From what I hear, endometriosis sucks beyond the telling of it. Maybe your wonderful little bod is just throwing an uber fit and telling the Universe it WILL finally get fixed! Seriously, Mom was being told she'd just have to live w/her IBS for the past 40 years and last Christmas (literally) she finally ended up having a drastic treatment and is enjoying a normal digestion system for the first time ever. I don't trust doctors but I DO have to deal with them and they CAN do great things!
I've had the internal pelvic TV ultrasound. Ain't as fun as it sounds but...ain't as bad as it sounds either and kinda cool to see your wonderfully mysterious female parts up there. And tell them all to just bite you bout that mammogram. I gotta a year and some change on ya and I ain't had one either. I'll do it when I, repeat I, decide it's time. I ain't ignorant and neither are you. Our health care system is all about cash. Just keep that in mind. I agree they shoulda done the pap when they did the exam...but hey, if you've got insurance and she's hot, what the hell?
You know, I know all about the panic attacks that accompany this kinda shit...just a lovely little bonus...no extra charge! Tell this doc about it. Maybe she'll give YOU some valium too. Heh...even if you don't want it, you can mail it to me! Helps me as much as drinking (if I take enough) and...no hangover!
Shit...my "comment" has turned into a blog post itself. Just want you to know that I'm thinking bout ya and I love, MY FRIEND, Cindy. That would be you! 8) Sending lots of warm fuzzy healing vibes to the East Coast. I got enough for all you drama queens!
JD
Well . . . this certainly doesn’t seem like a time to be serious!
We really do know how to keep the people we love on their toes, don’t we?!
My thoughts are always with you guys out there in hell, and especially now. My little kidney thingy on Tuesday is gonna be a walk in the park . . of course the park is in the middle of Baghdad and I’m wearing a shirt that says Allah is gay. Ooops, there I go again insulting people and their gods. So, if Allah is your god, great! He’s not mine, so I’ll joke about him for now. As a matter of fact, yes, I do joke about my God. I figure if he’s a God, then he can take it. Please, no bombs in my shorts or anything. You go ahead and worship your way, just as long as you don’t screw with me!
Now, back to our regularly scheduled program.
Good thoughts, and yes prayers to my God are coming your way. And by the way, I am very proud to be considered one of your “oldest” friends. I don’t give my friendship out lightly, to just anyone. You got to be a little bit special for me to consider you a friend . . . and I’m not talking in the “special ed” kind of way.
Start harassing your bosses there to give you a damn transfer home. That way we can compare surgery scars. Of course, I’m blind and stuff so there’s only one way for me to “see” your scars . . . oh sure, now you’re never coming back!
Been a busy week here getting ready for everything. And of course I always put things off. Like, this week I’m trying to figure out a will, and a living will, and a power of attorney, and all that crap. I don’t think anybody will need it for a long time, but I’ve put it off for years and figure, “what the hell, I’ll get it done.” Hey, I just thought of something. What better way to tell people my wishes then to put it on the internet?! So, if for some reason I don’t get it all done and for some strange reason it comes up , I donate every damn organ in my body if the transplant people can use any of it . . . . and everything I own, including the Mustang and all my collector’s Playboys and Penthouses, go to my lovely wife J.D. I don’t think she probably wants my Beach Boys, Mariah Carey, and Luther Vandross cd’s . . . but she can have some fun using them as Ninjah throwing stars or something.
O.K., enough of that crap, back to the subject at hand.
You know, if you move back home, we can go to the doctor’s together. Keep them busy and all. And if needed, we can donate parts to each other. I will have 3 kidneys after Tuesday that I won’t be using . . . I’d be happy to let you have them. And you and your womanly parts. . I’d love to get my hands on those. Uhm, that didn’t come out right did it?
O.K., I’m gonna close out by throwing one more thing out there that I don’t do lightly . . .
I love you guys and miss you very much. Gotta go hug a tree or something now . . .
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