Soon.
So I've been feeling kind of blah lately. No real reason, not really unhappy, just listless. I spent the past few weeks hanging out with friends and getting into costumed hijinks, and now that they're back in school and I'm waiting for classes to start, it's like coming down off a really great high. Kind of a bummer. I want it to be spring, or summer, so I can see Neeners and back to Cali for a while. I want to DO stuff. Fun stuff.
There's so many things I could be doing right now. I could be finishing that fanfic, that painting. I could finish reading that new book. Instead I'm sitting here on the computer wondering if I have anything good to munch on that wont kill me. Eck. That reminds me. I have to get my perscriptions refilled. Blah. That means I have to get off my ass, drag my lazy carcass downstairs, find the damn phone and call in about twelve little numbers, wait till tomorrow, walk down to wal mart, shell out fifty bucks, and walk back. Ugh.
It's funny. I can't even really remember what it felt like to not have to do dialysis, to not have a tube dangling from my stomach, to not have to moniter everythng I eat or do, to not have to worry about fluid intake, to be able to drink and stay out late and not have people hovering, wondering if I'm going to keel over or break into a million peices or explode or cry or rage.
Even yesterday, my psychotic clown faced grandma called my mom with these sage words: "Well, since Russ(my dad) Is going to be in Iraq for a year and doesn't want to give her a kidney, we'll just take her out to Denver and get her one."
Right. Cos, you know, they have them in the transplant section at wal mart. Five for a buck, a real bargain. Just walk in with your little cooler, pick one out and they install it for you right there. I swear to god. And since when did my dad tell anyone that he just didn't want to give me a kidney? Why then is he quitting smoking and continuing to work his ass off to lose the weight? It's just as bad as the time she asked how the dialysis was going and when I said really well and mentioned my labs being better, her response was "OH good. So you wont need the operation after all." Yep. I just magically got my shrivvled little kidneys to work like new. That's what dialysis does, you know.
But scary clown face grandma isn't alone. Even my mom has curious lapses in reality. She made calzones for dinner one night, forgetting my need to avoid dairy due to both potassium and phospherous. I figured half of a half wouldn't hurt, and I was starving cos I hadn't eaten that day. I said I'd take extra phosperous binders and she said "Just drink lots and lots of water."
Umm. What now? Not only would water fail to do a damn thing about the phospherous in my system, but it would actually be a really super bad idea. See, with busted kidneys, you retain water, then you have to deal with something called fluid overload that will basically make your heart 'splode. Literally. I'm not joking. It's like a sponge, sucking up that water and expanding until Skadoosh! so yeah. bad Idea. Still, I don't hold it against her. Her answer to everything is "Drink a lot of water."
*Sigh* I'm also worried about my friends. Just as things are startng to look up for me, they start to get stressed, depressed, ill. The worst part is there's nothing can do. I can give advice till I'm blue in the face, but that doesn't mean they're gonna listen. They're gonna have to come to their own conclusions and do something about their issues on their own time. It seems no matter what I say they're happier to wallow. And here I am, out int he middle of buttfuck nowhere colorado watching them self destruct through livejournal. It's enough to make me want to curl up in a little ball and never go on the internet again. But then there would be the not knowing, because they're too busy to call or pick up the phone when I do. They have these things called lives. Mine's still on layaway.
Soon. I wont be broken anymore. I'll get better. Soon.
There's so many things I could be doing right now. I could be finishing that fanfic, that painting. I could finish reading that new book. Instead I'm sitting here on the computer wondering if I have anything good to munch on that wont kill me. Eck. That reminds me. I have to get my perscriptions refilled. Blah. That means I have to get off my ass, drag my lazy carcass downstairs, find the damn phone and call in about twelve little numbers, wait till tomorrow, walk down to wal mart, shell out fifty bucks, and walk back. Ugh.
It's funny. I can't even really remember what it felt like to not have to do dialysis, to not have a tube dangling from my stomach, to not have to moniter everythng I eat or do, to not have to worry about fluid intake, to be able to drink and stay out late and not have people hovering, wondering if I'm going to keel over or break into a million peices or explode or cry or rage.
Even yesterday, my psychotic clown faced grandma called my mom with these sage words: "Well, since Russ(my dad) Is going to be in Iraq for a year and doesn't want to give her a kidney, we'll just take her out to Denver and get her one."
Right. Cos, you know, they have them in the transplant section at wal mart. Five for a buck, a real bargain. Just walk in with your little cooler, pick one out and they install it for you right there. I swear to god. And since when did my dad tell anyone that he just didn't want to give me a kidney? Why then is he quitting smoking and continuing to work his ass off to lose the weight? It's just as bad as the time she asked how the dialysis was going and when I said really well and mentioned my labs being better, her response was "OH good. So you wont need the operation after all." Yep. I just magically got my shrivvled little kidneys to work like new. That's what dialysis does, you know.
But scary clown face grandma isn't alone. Even my mom has curious lapses in reality. She made calzones for dinner one night, forgetting my need to avoid dairy due to both potassium and phospherous. I figured half of a half wouldn't hurt, and I was starving cos I hadn't eaten that day. I said I'd take extra phosperous binders and she said "Just drink lots and lots of water."
Umm. What now? Not only would water fail to do a damn thing about the phospherous in my system, but it would actually be a really super bad idea. See, with busted kidneys, you retain water, then you have to deal with something called fluid overload that will basically make your heart 'splode. Literally. I'm not joking. It's like a sponge, sucking up that water and expanding until Skadoosh! so yeah. bad Idea. Still, I don't hold it against her. Her answer to everything is "Drink a lot of water."
*Sigh* I'm also worried about my friends. Just as things are startng to look up for me, they start to get stressed, depressed, ill. The worst part is there's nothing can do. I can give advice till I'm blue in the face, but that doesn't mean they're gonna listen. They're gonna have to come to their own conclusions and do something about their issues on their own time. It seems no matter what I say they're happier to wallow. And here I am, out int he middle of buttfuck nowhere colorado watching them self destruct through livejournal. It's enough to make me want to curl up in a little ball and never go on the internet again. But then there would be the not knowing, because they're too busy to call or pick up the phone when I do. They have these things called lives. Mine's still on layaway.
Soon. I wont be broken anymore. I'll get better. Soon.