Thursday, January 05, 2006

Magically Craptastic

That is how I describe 2006 so far.

After filling in for the morning show during the holidays and working myself to delirious exhaustion, I gave in and took a week vacation.

Of course, my definition of a vacation has altered in the last couple of years.

Mostly I've just been lying down all week.

And vomiting all over an offramp sign on 101.

Ever since last Saturday, some disturbing symptoms (or side effects, depending on your point of view) have been creeping into my system and they make me fearful of what Dialysis will metamorphasize me into in 2006.

I was traveling back from Petaluma (where the rednecks were restless at the local Safeway) and I could feel it bubbling deep in my intestinal tract.

I had been nauseous for most of the evening, but had mostly ignored it as I hung out with friends.

It was about 10:30pm and I couldn't fight it any longer. I quickly pulled up to the East Washington road sign off 101 and quickly pulled my truck to a complete stop. I turned off the engine so none of the interior lights would illuminate what I was about to do.

This was near the end of the floods we've been blessed with lately here in Northern California, so the end of the pavement that segued into the dirt was really slippery. I was about to fall into the mud when I caught myself on the road sign and puked all over the wooden post holding the left side erect.

Over and over it came, waves of Diet Pepsi and peppermint candy. My stomach acid had dissolved most of it, but it burned my throat and caused me to sputter and cough miserably.

As I was finishing, I raised my body and was caught in the headlights of a huge lifted truck.

They started honking their horn and one of the rednecks shouted in my direction.

"Clean up your mess fucker!"

Some people hate hippies, others despise Republicans.

I loathe rednecks and they seem to breed like rabbits here in Sonoma County.

Whether the preceding incident is related to my present condition, I cannot truly say.

All I know is that my heart hurts.

My potassium level is fine and I don't have problems breathing. But lately, before I leave Dialysis my heart rate is between 150 and 160 beats per minute.

This happens when too much fluid is pulled off the body. The heart can't deal with the pressure and begins to beat frantically.

I've been coughing on and off today and every time I do, a sharp pain washes over my heart, reminding me just how fragile my health status truly is.

Mix that together with extreme fatigue and you have the recipe for a crappy vacation.

I can be thankful for small blessings though. If I had to go to work this week, I would have spent numerous minutes on the floor gasping for energy while I clutched my Steeler pillow.

And that would have just been wrong.

Checking the scoreboard, I have 363 "chances" to make this a better year and increase the chances of having a new and improved Stacy.

But first I need a nap.


  1. Maybe next time, hold on until the redneck truck's coming past, then throw up on it? Just a thought.

  2. Oh Stacy. I hope the nap was good.

    Hoping your heart feels better.

    I miss you!

  3. Spirit of Owl: As the newly crowned superhero "Dialysis Man" I am working on my new ability of projectile vomiting. I'll let you know how it goes.

    Leslie: After all these years, it's still good to hear from you.