Vicodin makes work bearable, almost fun.
It sucks that I am in a lot of pain, I will admit that, getting shots and stitched up in Emergency Rooms is not really how I like to spend my time. I dont have a family doctor; Hell, I dont even really go to the doctor. Those fuckers never tell me anything good.
"Your blood pressure is EXTREMELY HIGH. You will be DEAD in six months if you dont get it in check."
"Heres a number of a foot doctor so he can give you a chrotozone shot in the bottom of your foot."
"You are EXTREMELY overweight. You are a prime suspect to diabetes, heart disease and strokes."
"You should buy some high-top gym shoes for better ankle support."
Ok, I will admit it, that last one wasnt something a doctor said. My gym teacher, Mr. Wright, seem to find time to tell me that at the beginning of every school year I had him all the way up through high school until I moved far, far away to another state. What a fucking dick. He mistook me for someone who actually cares about physical fitness.
I revel in unhealthiness.
I rebel WITH my unhealthiness.
It took me sitting in a waiting room to realize this. In this waiting room there was a TV that kept showing the same health program over and over. It didnt matter if you tried to change the channel because it just stayed on the same channel regardless. Trust me, I tried to change it....
Facts and figures.
Tips and guidelines to a new, healthy you.
Makes me fucking sick. How ironic.
I dont need to know how to avoid a stroke. I mean fuck! It doesnt matter how much you take care of yourself or how much danger you try to avoid; danger persist.
I didnt plan on sticking my thumb between a machine wall and a cam drive.... But I did. and it hurt.
Watching that ‘health’ TV and all the ideas and urgings to live a healthy life.... It was all sickening. My mind wanders right away to The Floating Baron in the first adaptation of the movie DUNE. Now that guys a fucking hero.
I said HERO.
*** In three Hours part two will post