Nobody knows the toilets I've seen
No, I haven't written in weeks even though I only just started this diary. For those of you wanting to keep up on my life who are too cheap to make a phone call, tough fucking luck. I'm cranky, lethergic, and nauseous 18 to 20 hours a day, and I'm perfectly content feeling sorry for myself in private, thank you. I haven't slept longer than 3 hours since mid-December. I still have a nurse arrive bright and early every day to pull crap out of my lower back and stuff crap back in. I'm trapped in my apartment on IV meds that make me sick and queasy every four hours when the dose is administered. It's freezing fucking cold outside, and the "portable" IV pump could only fit under a coat about 6 sizes larger than I am. Since I can't allow the IV tubing to freeze, here I am: stuck.
come hither - back off
You'd think this would encourage me to write more. Ha. You try concentrating on even the simplest mental tasks when your body is solely intent on vomiting up its own stomach whole.
Yes, I'm whining. Bite me. If any one of you even thinks "look on the bright side" or "try to stay positive", I will phone up my Greek friends Theo and Gus in Toronto to hunt you down and forcefeed you rancid gyros for 5 straight days in an abandoned warehouse with no bathroom facilities.
Now if you'll excuse me, it's time for me to look at my dinner until it gets cold.
make idle gossip (0 comments so far)
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