"Fire is motion / Work is repetition / This is my document / We are all all we've done / We are all all we've done / We are all all we've done / We are all all defenses."

- Cap'N Jazz, "Oh Messy Life," Analphabetapolothology

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Easter Sunday

i woke up this morning feeling a little closer to death.

the past few days i've been trying to get over a freak bout of shingles. i saw two doctors and a dermatologist, none of whom could provide me strong answers or explanations for what was going on. shingles was the default answer that inspired little confidence.

they poked and prodded, brought in colleagues to look at my skin, ran labs on my bloodwork, and

they put me on three different medications. the first made me sleepy, like narcoleptic sleepy, so i stopped after the first day. the other was a topical cream that cost $45, so i didn't even bother filling that prescription. the last was free, came in little silver individually-wrapped packets, and the doctor gave me just enough, he thought, to get me thru it. so, i took them, every day, for 4 days.

i get home last night from 8 hours of travel, my stomach hurting, it's 11 pm PST and i haven't eaten or had anything to drink since 2 pm EST b/c of my stomach, and i'm noticing something isn't right with my body. i won't give you details, no "TMI", but suffice it to say:

i've been up since 7 am PST, calling doctors, clinics, looking up causes of my particular condition, checking drug side effects (of which i think i exhibit the SEVERE REACTION), looking up health insurance policies and trying to understand how much this might end up costing me, and

feeling extremely tired, alone, confused, and scared.

i want to be anywhere but here.

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