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I just write this stuff on message boards because my family might give a shit and I don't want to freak them out.
This morning I was shaving my legs (yeah, I'm a dyke, not a fucking nun), and I noticed just how bruised and dented up they were, and something that looked like a movie effect was growing out of my shin bone. I was laughing, thinking of taking a picture and asking how much Lloyd's of London would insure my legs for, when I felt that big numb spot that has been there for about a week and I realized that hey, fuck, maybe I'd better call my doctor, and now I have to go in today. He's going to be pissed that I lost another 10# since I saw him a couple of months ago and he told me to slow down with the weight loss. I weighed 284 a year ago, 177 this morning. My voice sounds like Mama Cass when she played Vegas after losing a bunch of weight and she sounded like a croaking frog.
I'm just going to have to tell him that there's something about moderate to severe chronic pain that doesn't leave you much of an appetite, not that I recommend it as a weight loss method. I can't even walk down the hall without bumping into the walls with both shoulders, but I haven't eaten anything so that's probably it.
To tell you the truth, I don't think I want to live anymore, but Tony is talking about buying us a 100-acre ranch, so maybe I can get into that, if he buys me a tractor, maybe make a deal with the drug smugglers for some heroin when the codeine doesn't work anymore, which won't be long.
Ah, fuck it, they'll probably tell me to shove two suppositories up my ass and call them back in the morning, I'll load up on codeine and valium when I get home, and I'll be fine. I just won't be able to type anymore.
What would help, at least temporarily, would be some pot and coke, but I don't know where to find that stuff right now.
-d
This morning I was shaving my legs (yeah, I'm a dyke, not a fucking nun), and I noticed just how bruised and dented up they were, and something that looked like a movie effect was growing out of my shin bone. I was laughing, thinking of taking a picture and asking how much Lloyd's of London would insure my legs for, when I felt that big numb spot that has been there for about a week and I realized that hey, fuck, maybe I'd better call my doctor, and now I have to go in today. He's going to be pissed that I lost another 10# since I saw him a couple of months ago and he told me to slow down with the weight loss. I weighed 284 a year ago, 177 this morning. My voice sounds like Mama Cass when she played Vegas after losing a bunch of weight and she sounded like a croaking frog.
I'm just going to have to tell him that there's something about moderate to severe chronic pain that doesn't leave you much of an appetite, not that I recommend it as a weight loss method. I can't even walk down the hall without bumping into the walls with both shoulders, but I haven't eaten anything so that's probably it.
To tell you the truth, I don't think I want to live anymore, but Tony is talking about buying us a 100-acre ranch, so maybe I can get into that, if he buys me a tractor, maybe make a deal with the drug smugglers for some heroin when the codeine doesn't work anymore, which won't be long.
Ah, fuck it, they'll probably tell me to shove two suppositories up my ass and call them back in the morning, I'll load up on codeine and valium when I get home, and I'll be fine. I just won't be able to type anymore.
What would help, at least temporarily, would be some pot and coke, but I don't know where to find that stuff right now.
-d
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