Monday, January 07, 2008

Six Days, Seven Nights of Horror

As the New Year dawned I had a little conversation with myself.

It makes up for the times that other people don't wish to converse with me.

"So Stacy, how can you make your life even suckier than it is now? How can you increase the suckitude exponentially until it is nearly unbearable?"

And there the answer appeared, wedged between a pile of broken dreams, underneath a stash of missed opportunities.

"Double your Dialysis!"

Pure unadulterated genius!

What would move me to change from three days a week, three hour treatments to six days a week, two hour treatments?

The non-Dialysis days have become unbearable.

An entertaining mix of dizziness, combined with a fruitful amount of nausea. splashed on a general feeling of fogginess have joined together to create forces I can no longer defeat.

For many months now I've been kicking Dialysis' ass. He began to hide behind one of the nearby treatment chairs, unwilling to show his despicable face in my presence. Because he knew I was strong, bold and unafraid.

Dialysis' dirty little secret is that he's tenacious.

He'll make you dizzy. Then you bleed. Sometimes your vision will blackout. And just when you can't take anymore, moments before treatment ends, he'll bite into your calf with his razor sharp teeth until you beg forgiveness.

His cackles echo through your soul as you dive into the depths of self control, hoping to find the courage to defeat him once and for all.

But he holds the knowledge that you will return, you must return, or you'll die.

And that's when he attacks again, mocking you with every minute side effect.

After a while, your willingness to fight depletes itself and all you're left with is the shell of the mighty individual you once were.

This is my last resort, my final step toward personal defeat.

My Dialysis access is twelve years old now, an infinite amount of time compared to the normal patient.

It is the one aspect of my personality that Dialysis hates. I've beaten the odds before and I'll do it again just to spite him.

Three more chances a week for Dialysis to nip at my soul. Yet, three more chances to feel better and become the Stacy I truly miss.

I'll keep you updated on the score.

1 comment:

  1. you're a brave one. thank you for your email :) keep kicking its ass!!

    <3 me