rant

My last IV - from an Appendix removal, in 1995

Starting the IV. I can't help but think of it as plugging in.

Needle in my wrist; most of the time I'll keep it covered with a "sockette" a wrist band sort of thing.

All week I get to play with needles - pulling solution from one bottle and injecting it into another, switching to a large needle, pulling that mixture out and pumping it into an IV bag. All those needles get tossed into the "sharps bin" - a red trash can marked biohazard that I'm free to keep after this whole regimine.

With the nice nurse Allison, this is my buddy, my pumping machine, my Flo-Gard 6201. Just in time for Halloween! I'm trying to figure out how to work this whol thing into a costume. And I'm trying to figure out if I can connect this pump to my computer, to the internet, to finally mainline data.

A minor case of ringworm - barely visible, but still itchy. Not so bad as Mark's serious sore in Roatonga!

At my desk, plugged into the pump and two computers with three screens. Feel the flow! (details shot)

Last night a kind and energetic nurse came to the house. She discovered ringworm on my scalp, separate from the Shingles on my forehead. My head is aching and itchy and gross, covered in sores and lesions. And now I have drug side effects to add to the mix.

My throat is both dry and swampy. I have a layer of snot in my mouth. I feel woozy. I already mentioned that - my brain is half asleep and the living cells are screaming. In my shoulders and wrist there's pain. In my fucking left arm there's a needle sticking out. FOR A WEEK!

I have to wear a little wristband to keep this needle in check. When I use my left arm I'm reminded that I've been stuck, that I'm hooked up to a medical machine all week. Yesterday I went to the doctor looking for a topical anti-biotic or something to take care of my rash. And now I wonder if I'll be leaving the house this week. You know? I just feel like shit, and I have to medicate myself the whole time.

AAAhhhhhh. Pardon me. And meanwhile? A most dear friend's mother is having serious surgery to see about her colon - she might not live. That's tears-worthy. Me? I'm just addled. Really! Just wobbly-headed.

And I have an incredible batch of friends and strangers giving me comfort and advice online. Knowledge and explanation, vignette and opinion. It's helpful - the living part of my mind has more to chew on because if it.

And I have an incredible house full of tools and toys that I get to spend a week with. I'm thinking to take the living room back to the two or three TV layout; that way I can power-veg while I'm hooked up to the drip. I have fucking satellite television with 500 channels that I haven't watched for more than twenty minutes in about three months! Piles of DVDs and games never watched and never played, amidst a growing sea of medical products and medical waste.

Ouch, my stomach hurts. And maybe what I want is someone to be taking care of things. "Do you want a glass of water?" "Can I make you some eggs?" "Shall I fetch you an XBox?" And I find that the debris from my recent fun or eating has been cleared and I'm free to putter around in circles. My lot is mental stimulation this week, and companionship another time. I'm working to control my neediness. And bitterness! Austin is here, he makes jokes and takes photos of me; that helps.

I asked the nurse last night after reading the briefing of my treatment she provided - this medication causes nausea? (This morning I think this medication causes shooting sharp stomach pains). She replied, "It mostly causes nausea if you read that page and think about it." So I purge my sad angry self up here, pardon me, and then I proceed with the positive. I've got photographs to process from recent wonderful trips (I just bought some database software - ACDSee, now I can catalog my 14,000 digital pix)! Ouch ouch ouch - I've got to breathe differently. I suspect by the end of this week I'll have learned some things about my body and my mind.