girl least likely to
WHERE THE DEAD MEN LOST THEIR BONES
My apologies for the bitter and self-pitying hospital entry. This whole thing is very strange, because I do not feel ill in any way. It just seems that every once in a while my insides will go completely to hell, and I plan to go running back to the gastroenterologist, who has the nice, reassuring, good-Asian-boy name of Eugene,* to demand some answers. I will swallow the damn camera if that’s what he wants. No more writhing on the floors of emergency departments vomiting into a strange disposable plastic sock. (It “isolates splashback”!) No more intravenous Dilaudid, lovely as it is. No more startling the attending by gasping out, “Fuck no!” to the “any chance you could be pregnant” query. No more “clear liquids,” of which it seems beer is not one. No.
*Having to say “I don’t mean that to be racist” is pretty much a big flashing neon clue that you have said something dickish, but perhaps I should explain that growing up, every born-here Asian-American kid I knew was named something slightly old-fashioned like Gloria or Lily or Eugene or Stanley. I find it charming, to be honest, and it’s a sort of an Asian-American sub-tradition that I tried to keep in mind when considering an American name for Nora. Not that I was seriously ever in danger of naming her Madysyn or anything, but you know.
Now it is my second-to-last day off. I go back to work on Friday—why did I do that? Why did I just not take the whole week? It is a mystery. This morning I went to the periodontist for what I thought was a consultation for more future gum surgery, but which turned out to be actual gum surgery. I felt like yelling WAIT I’M NOT READY but I went ahead with it and now today is suddenly about ice packs and narcotics instead of errands and exercise. Or beer and pretzels (no alcohol, no pointy crunchy foods). Or sex and violence (no oral, no blows to the face). Sigh. Boring.
Fuck, I’m getting depressed, guys. I’m going to post this piece of shit anyway, in the interest of blogging honestly, and try again later.
—mimi smartypants, professional buzzkill.