My Double Lung Transplant

Friday, December 12, 2008

Biting the hand that smites you

Lastnight when I was at Jenna's, standing in her kitchen debating what sort of tea to have, and trying desperately hard not to ruin it (like the time i ruined it at Katey's) i began to have chest pains. Not heart attack chest pains, but pleurisy chest pains.

Admittedly, I had been forwarned. I got to her place and immediately complained of feeling like my ribs had been crushed by a giant, like some big hand grasped itself around my ribs, squeezed, and crushed me. And earlier in the day i got feelings and jolts of pain but that's so commonplace I just thought nothing of it.

Anywho, stop getting me offtrack. So we were in her kitchen when the pain began to manifest itself in the front of my chest - smack in the middle - spread evenly over the top lobes of my lungs. It feels like an approaching storm, a big dark cloud that you anticipate coming, that you can see on the horizon, and it gets closer and closer and darker and darker and it spreads out. Sometimes it's not as bad as it looked from far away, and sometimes it is.

My first thought wasn't, "Oh crap, pleurisy again." My first thought was actually, "Yay! Pleurisy! If it's bad enough i can get out of rehab tomorrow and just get my IV instead in the morning and my day will be done a lot sooner!"

I swear to god. This is just another testiment to the fact that I am an innately horrible person. To wish pleurisy on myself to get out of rehab again? Can I not remember the fact that in July I was rendered imfuckingmobile for 13 days b/c of it?

So we sat there on Jenna's couch and as the minutes went by the pain just got worse, as predicted. With pleurisy, you don't just feel the pain when you move. It's always there - when you sit, when you walk, when you sleep, when you lay down, when you shit, when you fart, when you blow your nose, ect - it's always there. It just kept growing, that hollow, sore, sick feeling.

So i left, and the pain was getting worse. I got home and went to bed, and at 2am the pain was so bad that i had to take a Tylenol 2. I didn't want to. I wanted to resist b/c i knew i'd wake up and the pain would be gone and i'd have to do rehab when i don't have the energy to do it.

Of course it worked. Of course i woke up with no pain - this is Tylenol 2 people - it could probably cure evil if it wanted to. Under normal circumstances, i would have skipped around the room and screamed with joy, but instead my thought was, "FUCK. I have to go to rehab."

Blah blah blah, long story short, I went to rehab, i got my IV, I was compliant and I still have pleurisy pains. Lets all join hands and sing Kumbiyah if we must.

I guess the lesson to be learned is that you may get what you wished for, but wishes aren't stupid; they will fuck you up.

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