antibody

Much ado about something else entirely. After working myself into a grand frothy lather over going to the doctor, holding my breath imagining the horror of The Tightening... vibrating with anxiety because the pain was already intolerable, it turns out he couldn't really do anything at all because I have an infection. Which, had he given me antibiotics, like he said he would do after the procedure, we might have avoided. My mom came up unexpectedly to cart me to the hospital. On her birthday yet. She pursed her lips at me as I sat on hard chairs in weird contortions in the Ass Doctor's waiting hallway. Scolded me for not bringing my new pillow to sit on. I fell asleep hung over the arm of a chair, elbows propped on a table, waiting for the nurse to call me. Reeling on percocets and a crummy night's sleep, I babbled to the resident who looked like he was in high school. Bright red, weeping, sitting crookedly, hyperventilating... I really put my best foot forward. I did manage to get out that I hated percocets, and among other things they make me very emotional and itchy.


bow and arrow © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.


After I was done making a scene at the doctor's office, more out of frustration than physical pain, we went to collect my new prescriptions and somehow I persuaded my mother to go out for Korean. The same mother who finds black pepper overstimulating. I over-indulged in my favorite things which I hadn't had in a very long time. Haemool Pajeon and Dolsot Bibim Bap. My stomach sang... its last song for days. When we returned to my apartment, my mother's hand was brutally attacked by a purple celluloid sponge. It drug her around the entire apartment and had its way with her and everything in its path. Even the toilet and the two window air conditioners. I tried to pry it off her but before I could, it nearly finished her off.

My mother is a firm believer in the notion that when everything else sucks, at least your house can be clean. And when you are in too much pain to do it yourself, she will. Because dirt is her mortal enemy. Which, this time, was fortunate for me.


gravity © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

When I returned to work the next day, I realized that, though it is supposed to make me 'better', Flagyl is no one's friend. That bitch owes me breakfast and a good half hour of paid time. I am resigning to saltines, toast, milk, yogurt and brown rice to help mend relations. Two of my coworkers also told me I look like shit which improved my spirits exponentially. I am realizing that Vicodin doesn't do much for me except make me feel a little floaty... it certainly doesn't help the freakish stabactular spasms I get because my innards are staging a coup for leaving a foreign body somewhere it should not be. At night I dream about the pain over and over and I startle awake and realize that I didn't dream it at all.

My Mother, LPN, talks to her coworkers about my condition, which is both revolting, embarrassing and fascinating. This vile thing happening IN MY BODY is like water cooler talk. Gah! While I can't talk about it at all in non-vague terms, mom dishes it in the breakroom. But the funny thing is a surprising number of people have owned up to having the same condition in past... and they are passing on some of their wisdoms. Nothing that is helping me sleep through the night yet.


recursive © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

In two more weeks I go back with the hope that the infection will be contained and we can start The Tightening. Now there is something to look forward to! Ass Doctor also said that until my pain is contained we aren't going to do a colonoscopy. But we'll talk about that next time. He sure does know how to keep the ladies coming back for more. I've been instructed by mother to keep a sort of Ass Log, to keep track of what works, what hurts and how my drugs mess me up and put me back together. Don't count on me posting that here, though its tempting. My pill and potion arsenal is huge. I'm still more impressed with the effects of things I thought of using more than anything he has recommended me.


fell © Laura Kicey. All Rights Reserved.

I took a walk around town today to see if my legs still work. It wasn't terribly comfortable but I made it back whole. I still don't know what a normal day is like. I still don't know when the end is. I have a very short leash... but also a stunning array of foam rubber things to sit on. That must count for something.