Saturday, February 23, 2013

Things get worse, I learn the prognosis is bad

So, I finally went the doctor on Friday. Showed them my toe. Doctor flips out. Why did you do this to yourself? Did you not have insurance?

"Oh my god! Oh, my god!" He stammered while crunching down on to the floor for a better look.

"We'll need an MRI,  X-ray, start him on Bactrim!"

All the nurses just sat there while he waited for my excuse, why did I do this?

I told him I was afraid of doctors. Truth is, three years ago I had no insurance, didn't think I could afford it. Not sure I can now. Then the whole thing just got embarrassing. I knew I'd get the reaction I got. What's a man to do?

I'll need six weeks of intravenous antibiotics if I have a bone infection or I could lose the toe. Almost would prefer being toeless after reading about intravenous antibiotics and the possibilty of going septic. That shit is truly scary. My MRI is scheduled on Friday, but the X-rays didn't look good.

About to take the first antibiotics, we all know how much I hate them. My stomach and bowels are already giving me such trouble. This will only make things worse. Hopefully, we find out that there is no bone infection, but three years of waiting? Impossible I'd say. There will be an infection, I never get truly lucky.


s + e + b said...

We do not have a category of luck that holds three years, man. That's just your opinion.

Toeless? You better hope not. If you notice, the great toe is the whole balance. Stopping before finishing a course of antibiotics, which is what you are setting up to do with your comments, is direct wilful action, thinking with your stomach. You had great luck. Don't throw it away.

I got Stage IV cancer three years ago. I never missed an appointment, or was late, to receive radiation. I love it.

Others, at 24, for instance, never believed the mole on their back was cancer, even after it was oozing, two months, four months. The guy just went on, he blogged. One day he blogs about a brain tumor, saying "this bad boy is ...".

I was working. I knew this thing had finally come, but I'd taken time to have my baby shortly after starting. I knew they'd be pissed. I waited a couple of extra weeks. The lesion penetratyed layer after layer of skin, and deposited a cell in a nlood vessel. Five years later my axillary lymph node, as big as a watermelon seed, a beutiful architecture of the body with a meshlike formation, initiated a growth phase. It reached a size of 3,4,500 grams. It pressed on nerves. I held my arm away from my body. My H J K L hand typed that. I have awesome luck.

Your asians seem kind of stupid. I called a couple of markets in Phoenix. It is going to be Japanese specifically, not these gooks. I don't know how gooks can even live without an ocean to fish.

You take the pills, but you call the doctor, say they make you sick, and he addresses that issue. Claro?

Your writing has the capacity to keep spomeone laughing for a few minutes straight. I think it is from having a million words down already. It's not just a little LOL.

thimscool said...


s + e + b said...

Six thousand pounds of dynamite.
Six pounds of dynamite.
Let's make everything all right.
When the C-4 cannister is to be emptied, you should hear it. The jelly makes a soft foomp like a new can of tennis balls.

Romius T. said...

I hardly need to encourage you, seb