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So.. My body hates me.
I'm feeling like s**t on tuesday. I'm sitting at my computer when my chest cramps up, and I can't breathe. My whole right side feels like it's been beaten with a sledgehammer, and then run over by a semi truck. I figure it's a muscle cramp or some such other bullshit. Didn't go to the hospital until 3 hours after it happened. They do some tests, and say that my breathing sounds good, and my oxygen levels are high.Which is surprising in and of itself, since I'm a smoker. So, they take a chest X-ray. Turns out, and this is ********, my right lung has collapsed. What? I thought my breathing sounded good and my oxygen levels are high? ******** wanker quacks! Anyway, they give me a nice painful I.V. and start poking me. Then, they give me a wonderful drug, and put me into surgery. I come to, (which is funny, since I apparently didn't pass out, but was awake and aware for the whole surgery. I even watched a good chunk of it.) and they're done poking a hole in my chest and insertinga tube into my body. this tube is connected to a butterfly valve, which is currently sitting on my lap. This valve drains air out of my body and doesn't let air in, so that my lung can re-inflate. This is tuesday. on thursday, I go back, and the lung has not healed, so no tube removal. Now it's almost saturday, and I can still blow bubbles in water with my tube. This means that my lung still has a hole or two in it. Arg. I'm pissed off and in a lot of pain. My body hates me, and thusly feels I should be punished. I therefore hate my body, and thusly feel that it deserves this damn tube and the associated pain. My brain has declared this a war of attrition, and refuses to take sides. My brain is like switzerland, and is secretly hoarding impressionistic art and chocolate. My body is attempting to seal of any borders, and allow me no access to such facilities as BREATHING. I now declare my p***s a no-mans-land, for all the good it's going to do me. I'm also entrenching my position with painkillers and movies on TV. This war may go on for some time, so I will send letters from the battlefield when I can escape. Tell my family that I'm going to miss chirstmas, and that war is hell.
Saluting from the front lines.
-Twistex
 Twistex · Sat Dec 18, 2004 @ 11:05am · 10 Comments |
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