Friday, October 14, 2005

The Serendipitous Flogging of My Soul

I wish to divulge that Stacy Without an E no longer exists in his original form.

Sixteen days ago I just stopped sleeping cold turkey.

Not by my own choice you understand. I believe Dialysis to not only have stolen my will to live, robbed me of my future, but it has also relegated me to a meager amount of sleep.

Three days straight last week I simply laid in bed and stared into the darkness, attempting to will my body into a state of slumber, but to no avail.

Joy, pleasure, frivolity all have mutated into sadness, pain and depression.

Next week I will be attempting to stump Dialysis by starting my three hour punishment in the morning hour, beginning at 10am. Dialysis isn't a morning person, so I'm hoping by the time he awakens, I'll be on my way to my demoralizing job.

I've been forced to stop by during the morning shift on numerous occasions and it's highly depressing. Elderly men and woman forced to wheel themselves into the anemic clinic to endure another indignity of old age. Angry nurses who take out their frustration with their burnout career by ignoring their patient's requests. The stench of vinegar and Ben-Gay standing at attention in the air.

Hold on. My vision is blacking out again.

(Stacy Without an E will return momentarily. He's presently on the floor opening and closing his eyelids quickly in hopes of having his vision return. He attempts to use his right hand to grab the corner of the desk and right himself, but he slips and his head falls back into the push pins on the bulletin board behind him. Ok, I think he's coming back now...)

Sorry about that. From time to time the last two weeks, I suddenly get really dizzy and my vision skips out for a few minutes. Anyone who believes you can survive on three to four hours of sleep has been popping No-Doz.

I must embark now on my final evening Dialysis treatment. On Monday, my arm burned and I wanted to jump out of my skin. Wednesday I was delirious from fatigue; Dialysis seemed to travel by slower than usual. Who knows what I'm in for tonight??

The staff at Dialysis used to enjoy my presence, but lately I have trouble putting a coherent sentence together.

They translate this to: Stacy is a complete and utter asshole.

I'm afraid that their belief is bathed in thick and gooey truth.

I miss my quick wit. I miss my charisma. I miss the energy to make it through an entire day without vomiting in my office garbage can.

I miss dating. I miss making out. I miss eating out. I miss my passion for my career. I miss my quirkiness.

I miss my kidney. I miss pain free days. I miss caring.

But most of all, I just miss me.