Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Dialysis with a Vengeance

Some days I would give vital internal organs if I could only be Bruce Willis.

Bruce has been "Unbreakable." He's been forced to "Die Hard" at least three times. He's been screamed at by Samuel L. Jackson on numerous occasions and lived to tell the tale.

This is what I mused upon after Dialysis showed up in the clinic again.

I didn't even see him come in this time. I was minding my own pitiful business, watching Johnny Depp do a fantastic Keith Richards impression in "Pirates of the Caribbean", when it happened.

Dialysis took his jagged and chipped, stained and yellowed raw teeth and bit down forcefully upon my left calf.

Dialysis got my attention.

I let out a series of curses that are still floating over the dialysis center at this hour. Dialysis continued to bite down with greater and greater force as Julie tried to help by pushing my foot forward.

It was the most unbearable pain. It sent my nervous system into overdrive. My entire body silently shouted in horror.

Again and again Dialysis knawed on my poor, reluctant calf. Then he would stop for a moment and grin. He would pretend my leg was an ear of corn and do little nips along the length.

Then he'd take another bite. And another. I was defenseless.

Julie put my dialysis machine on pause and gave me more fluid. Slowly, Dialysis became bored with my scrawny limb and decided to plop himself on the floor and mimic me.

I threw off my headphones, so did Dialysis. I held my bandages to clot, Dialysis did the same.

It was highly annoying.

I used all my self control not to curse at Dialysis. I grabbed my stuff and headed out to my truck, Dialysis dancing around me as I walked.

I threw my stuff into my truck and revved the engine. Dialysis was still bounding about, hopping on my hood and back to the nearby grass again.

I moved the truck into reverse and stopped. I put the gear in neutral and ran the engine.

Dialysis pretended like he was pseudo scared. I revved the engine one last time before throwing the gear into drive.

Dialysis didn't expect that.

When I slammed into his body he darted into the air and rolled into the distance. I acted quickly and used his useless body as my own personal speed bump, hitting him again, and again, and then some more.

I then got out and grabbed his body. It took all my remaining strength but I managed to get him into the bed of my truck.

But I wouldn't let Dialysis off that easy.

I took him home and made him watch episodes of "According to Jim".

His screams were delicious.

I melted an entire box of butter and poured it all over his disgusting form. I drove to Safari West and threw him into the lion pit.

His screams continued, although not as loud as earlier surprisingly, as his limbs were removed, one by one, from his body.

When the lions tired of him, I flung him back into my truck and blasted the crappy rock station from across the hall on my truck radio.

Over and over he pleaded, "No, no, no, no, no...stop, stop, stop, stop..."

I then proceeded to make the trek to the Neverland Ranch and propped Dialysis up against the front gate. I taped a sign on Dialysis' belly that read, "I'm an orphan and completely mute."

I drove off to enjoy a hearty breakfast as I witnessed a shadowy figure take in poor Dialysis in my rear view mirror.

About forty-five minutes later I returned to find Dialysis in the same spot I left him, only smiling.

"You sick fuck."

As I was dragging him back to my truck, a spasm started in my left calf.

I knew then that I wasn't done.

I needed to make up for the pleasure Dialysis had just experienced, so I plopped him into a seat at a sneak preview of "Betwitched."

"My eyes are burning! My eyes are burning! Make Will Ferrell stop mugging for the camera!"

He then proceeded to vomit over what was remaining of his clothing.

I then realized there was only one activity left that Dialysis could undergo that would make me feel worlds better.

Delirious and on the verge of death, I placed Dialysis gently into the chair I had suffered through hours earlier.

Dialysis tried meekly to get up, so I used plastic tape to strap him to the chair. I turned on the machine and rammed two fifteen gauge needles into his left forearm.

The shrieks of terror melted into my soul and brought a smile to my face.

I turned on the machine and set the time as high as it would go.

"I hope you cramp up," were the last words Dialysis ever heard from my lips.

The sad part is, I know Dialysis survived.

All the energy I expelled to torcher him was all for naught.

I won't win. I'll never win. Not until a kidney becomes available, most likely from someone who passes on in a car crash.

Try living with that on your conscience.

1 comment:

  1. As soon as I find out your blood type I am going to set about causing as many fatal car accidents as possible in your region. You don't have to thank me, odds are I'd end up doing it anyways.

    The life of Stacy Without An E is too great and glorious a tale for him to not completely pummel Dialysis to death at some point. Especially since his recent ascent to Batman-like greatness.

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