"...eight-ball"
For some days I've been profoundly ill,...couldn't keep down water. Firing away at both ends. Serious weakness all that swell stuff. This in reaction to the nuclear post-op meds they were shoveling into me.
Tonight finally for the first time I can actually get up. I wander about my digs in a weak deluded state. This would be fun if I weren't in so much fucking agony.
My visiting nurse sez this is just the normal reaction to all the shit they gave me, and which in pill form I still take. Fuck I nearly lost a leg so they're giving me crap that might kill me anyway.
She also mentions how tidy my digs are. ...see above.
Sez she most old fucks she tends live in hoarder's hells. This as they have a life time of crap they collected all over their homes. Me I get rid of stuff. Most others seem to gather, and keep it. Granted I have five boxes of crap, but that's all, and it's neatly put away. This is what she found so amazing.
When I kick the bucket my family will have an easy time clearing my place out. Btw I did that thing with my family. "No Extraordinary Measures" to be taken, and I don't mean maybe.
Damned if I'm going to hang on by my finger nails screaming for Jebus to save my aged ass.
I see a lot of that in hospitals.
Old fuckers as old or older than me in terror of death,...why? Really at their age they should be cool with it. I blame religions for this. Religion destroys dignity.
As you know I'm fine with getting out of here, and this time it looked like the getting was good. Imagine my surprise when I fucking woke up. I could have slugged that grinning young doctor,...he didn't do me no favor.
Well okay my sister would be freaked, and two or three other's. Otherwise bleep it. So I'm taking shit that's keeping me alive, and in one piece. Btw the Trump shut-down affected the co-pay on my deadly meds. $$$$$...yeah ain't that swell.
All things considered I'd rather be snorting an eight-ball of cocaine while having illegal sex with illegal persons.
More if I die.
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