dying but alive
I suppose that seems possibly more alarming than it’s intended to be. I don’t have COVID, no no, everyone knows that’s incredibly unlikely to happen to me. But I have been in the hospital several times during these latest surges. In September, it was manageable, the second week of December, not so much though. Not the pain, mind you, the pain was much worse the second time.
The problem is, though, the problem is the leak isn’t big enough to cause any concern, or maybe it’s not the death’s door knell I always feel haunting me. The big tests, the CT scan. the ECHO, these things usually determine if you’re a dead person in a short period or there’s something rumbling down which might create your death. These tests did not show that though the pain was certainly still there, it’s still a numb part I can feel now-back left shoulder closest to the top of the arm, the left top arm, the sometimes straying left hand and wrist. When I was in the hospital it was like a knife was incising me and there was no relief.
There was also no room, however, for any investigation, let alone any true need for any repair. So I left, as I do when I can, which is rare, but during a pandemic with a lethal condition, as I have, quite easy. Usually there are people there to protect you from yourself. But at that point it was every person for themselves & I ran out of there.
It’ll be time soon, if I make it, that is, to get it done. I know this, fucking OF COURSE I know this. It doesn’t make it easier. No no. You fools filling my investigative bed might end up being responsible, but I know your murderous rampages we could refer to as unwitting in its most innocent sense, no matter how stupid and fucking selfish you all are.
This IS the year. I don’t like always remarking my worst moments hence my hospital trips over the past few years have been barely referenced. WRITE me a comment, dammit.
First comment!
You are always my first one but more are seeing these at least.