I only have fragments,
snapshots, of what transpired...
I remember being wheeled
into a bathroom so I could offer a urine sample. For some reason I
was in front of a toilet but stuck in a wheelchair. Not really sure
as to the point of that.
I jammed my hand down the
front of my stretchable and most flexible workout pants and grabbed
my nub of a penis. I weaseled it out and over the top of my
waistband. It looked like a groundhog checking for his shadow. I
wondered if I was anemic as I could not remember the last time I had
had an erection.
More pressing matters were
at hand and now in cup.
I thought I might
overflow.
...
The Doctor needed a stool
sample.
How best to describe? Like
having a candy wrapper poked into you. Then pulled out of you.
Not the worst feeling in
the world.
Not pleasurable.
Which is a shame.
The only evidence that it
happened was the enormous amount of leftover lube I discovered on
myself later that day.
...
“I don't know what's
wrong with you”
(If I had a nickel.)
This time spoken by a very
cute lady Doctor.
She, standing at the foot
of my Ultramatic bed.
Me, lying in a puddle of
lube, Morphine drip in one arm, with a limp, shriveled penis barely
covered by an woolen smock.
“All the tests have come
back negative”
(Cancer?Lupus?AIDS?Cancer?That
Michael J. Fox disease?)
“I'd like to give you a
CAT Scan”
(I'd like to give you the
world)
“But I don't want to
expose you to that much radiation”
(I've exposed my penis and
my asshole and now, I can't even get radiation from you)
“If you experience the
same kind of pain that you felt today I want you to come back for a
CAT Scan”
(A second date. What holes
will we plunge with that one?)
“The nurse is going to
give you a shot of Toradol for the pain”
(Is that oral?)
“It's administered via
needle directly into your hip”
(For Christs' sake)
Just to lend a tiny bit of context, oh, three years later, this bit of prose was describing my time in hospital. For some reason, no one could figure it out, I had terrible pains from my back through my chest, through my abdomen. No one could give me an explanation as to the why or the how.
Just to lend a tiny bit of context, oh, three years later, this bit of prose was describing my time in hospital. For some reason, no one could figure it out, I had terrible pains from my back through my chest, through my abdomen. No one could give me an explanation as to the why or the how.
So I went to the hospital for four days and took Morphine.
And had blood drawn.
And urinated in a cup.
And had shit extracted from my ass.
And all they could tell me was to come back if I was still in pain.
Useful.
- Adam (Greene) (Cares)
Comments
Post a Comment