I’ve been in bed for the bulk majority of the past entire year. I left on January 5th 2022 for a “3 day vacation” and three ICU visits later I’m still in bed.
American doctors kept saying I needed a hematology specialist to evaluate a “blood disorder” for repeat episodes of pulmonary embolisms.
Mexican doctors that told me it’s my mitrial valve regurgitating and occasionally clotting during an mis-stroke. I’ll need to be on the anticoagulants permanently. I’ve had one stroke, two heart attacks, and three episodes of PE that we know of. Sounds terrible, right it is, but hey you see some cool shit and some not so cool shit.
It’s been downhill from there and I’ve more or less been making end of life plans revolving around going home. Neighbors have been asking me questions, “everyone’s like, he’s about to die.”Nobody back in the USA gives a shit, they’ll be kicking beach balls around at my wake (and if there is an afterlife, believe me, so will I, even if it’s hell. I’m ready to punch the fuck out of this shithole prison planet)
After a year in the shitter I didn’t have “a rapid resolution and nearly perfect vitals for 3 days straight after discontinuing flurosemida” on my bingo card.
I wake up every day ready to be disappointed.
I don’t want to die per se.
I have nothing left to live for, that’s all.
I’ve felt that way before, you know the whole “NDE” story.. I thought that it may as well be over then as well. Surprise me again. I don’t know exactly when I got all this cardiac damage. It could have been then. It could have been a few years ago. I didn’t get sober because I wanted to, I got sober because I needed to. I wish that I’d have known just how much I needed to, sooner.
You know what’s ridiculous? trying to use 2.5 gallons of water as a free weight, or trying to curl with the 4-foot breaker bar I busted my hand open with on the F-150. But I’m in pretty bad shape and I need to get into good enough shape to be marginally useful for something. Or what am I going to do, lay around in bed moaning in pain and sleeping until it’s over ?
That wasn’t “scrawny.” This is “scrawny.”
Come to find out this espirlactona shit is female hormones. There’s nothing wrong with that 😑 it’s about the same dosage as a liter of tap water from Seattle or Portland if I have that right (?) but I stopped that as well before I could get on the schedule for a vaginoplasty … or go infiltrate Reddit or 4chan and totally shit up all things created by men or whatever the hell it is that women do with themselves all day long.
I was just going to fuck off angrily and quietly if that was alright with everyone.
How would I rate being all trooned out and fishy as fuck? I dunno, my skins never been this clear! I have noodle soi arms! I’m about as emotionally unstable as usual, no difference there. I have absolutely zero sex drive whatsoever though my knees still knock if you got a nice smile …
Whatever. Bitch needed to close her goddamn legs.