Toilet Humour

Dear Whoever is out there,

It's been awhile hasn't it? .... In fact it has been so long that I had to go back and re-read my previous posts.

I'm glad that was the case, because I was so pleasantly surprised to see that my sister started posting too.

So .... Let's see... where to begin... again.. (and probably a few more times in the future).

I was sick again, I believe it was only a day or two after my last post. I will spare you the gory details of my wondrous trip to what I am now referring to as Satan's Bowl, for surely only something evil could make me as ill as I get ..... This time, at least, I went to the hospital straight away. Fuck sitting at home for 3 days wondering when it's going to end........ and then going to the hospital, leaving behind a bathroom that looks and smells like someone died in it. And while this certainly conjures all kinds of humorous imagery, if you are a fan of  "Toilet" humour. For me, the scenario is loosing the humour I have always been able to find in my own misery.

At Emerg., this time, I was put into observation, after the triage nurses were having a hard time getting my blood pressure because I kept fainting, and for some reason it was so ultra difficult to get an iv into vein at the bend in the bicep/forearm, so I was lined in on the top of my hand (painful). I've been IV'd many times, so don't get me wrong here. I am not mentioning the position of the IV to whine about that per se, I mention it because it is the first time that I have had the nurse who drew the IV, "MILK" the vein, because nothing was flowing into the specimen vials that she was collecting for the lab. Is it just me or is that not weird? The thing is, I was so delirious I was having a hard time speaking, I tried telling the nurse that I was delirious and instead I said delusional.... How's that for awesome? that's a pretty big difference in meaning, and to top it off, it's not like I was talking to a gas attendant, I just told a nurse I was delusional.

Since I am on narcotic pain meds, and I am poor, and no one important or special, I get treated as though I am drug abuser. Not by the Doctors, by the nurses. And everyone knows, that when you go to an emergency room, it is the nurses that you are dealing with for however many hours you are waiting, before you get to see a Doctor.

Anyways... now I've gone on about that for so long, I've pretty much used up my time. I can only type for so long before the pain is too much I have to stop.

SO... Let's move on for now.

I still have the hole in my ceiling. My Landlord is not in any hurry to fix this place.

And I feel like I'm climbing an uphill battle... and the hill I got... when the hills were assigned, is made of mud. For every step I take, every move.... I have to climb, scrape, scratch and claw my way through ever shifting, ever sliding, ever moving ... mud.

It's appropriate I suppose... that this post begins in the bathroom and ends with mud.

It's all about the brown.

I guess I haven't totally lost my ability to see humour in my own misery.