 ©1999-1999 ICFTP What're you, kidding? |
20 June 1999:
Mr. and Mrs Andrews, we're very very sorry about what's happened. But we have managed to save the head.
Have you wondered why I haven't been posting or writing emails? Well... everthing was going so well. And then... oh god, I don't even want to talk about it.
I was gone so long because it's very hard to hook up everything to an aging Powerbook 160 using only one's tongue. Damn CMD-key combinations. Did wonders for my tongue condition, tho. Not that I'm likely to get a chance to practice THOSE skills anymore... who would love a head? My ears would make pretty good handles, tho.
(singing)
"I.... ain't got no body... nobody cares for me, cares for me.... I'm so sad and loooooooonely..."
Ok, ok, not really, the head's still attached, along with everything else except a lot of hair that came out in the weirdest places. If any ONE of you can look down at yourself with a hairless groin and not burst into mad gigglin', you're a better man (or woman) than I am.
Dig this, chillun: I am OUTTA this place tomorrow.
Not that I don't love it here or anything. I mean, the nurses are cool, the doctors are witty, the food's reprocessed sewage... and everything smells bad. But I haven't left this ROOM in weeks.
Until today. Doc told me if I wanted to leave, I had to get my ass outta bed and walk the halls... like some revenant from the tomb, shuffling through the ages down dark corridors...
Do I really have to go out there? There's sick people and scary hospital equipment (CLEAR! HE'S FLATLINING! I SAID CLEAR GODDAMMIT! yes there was a defib cart around the corner. I hate hospitals) out there. I didn't wanna go. I offered to walk in a small circle for half and hour. No go. So out I went.
But hey! It wasn't so bad. Nobody coded, it was quiet, calm... and Angela was hanging around! This is the coolest chick... comes and hangs in my room whenever I'm playing music, says she likes it better in there. We jam some blues. She's gonna make a copy of my R.L. Burnside disc for her parents tomorrow. She brings me things I needs and gave me some SERIOUS moral support at one point, we both cried a little on each other, talking about how angry other people can make you.
Hey, dig the nifty mask? For the next 100 days I gotta wear that wherever I go outside my room. I'm gonna stalk around Five Points looking all hooded and dangerous... this bald guy wearing a mask and looking shifty-eyed... hehehehehe.
But the walk made me tired. Being sick sucks. But I'm getting better. Apparently my brother had Super Kick-Ass Monster Blood cause it's doing it's thing in a kick-ass way. BIG shout-outs to Neal! Wahooo! My counts are so high I can already have sex! Doc told me not in the hospital bed, tho. Dammit.
What they did to me is absolutely weird, totally trippy, bordering on the miraculous. I feel like I've shed an old (somehow internal) skin and a healthy new one is starting to show through.
Hey, I'm molting!
So tomorrow, hopefully I move into the Townhouse, a nearby housing facility for people in mine, or similar conditions, where I'll be close enough to walk to the hospital for my daily (yes, daily dammit) things they wanna do to me. Pump me, suck me, poke me, prod me... hey wait... :)
Chilluns, I am EXHAUSTED! But I wanted to get this update in for all of ya'll to read. You've been wonderful - hugs all around, a couple of gropes and *smootches* for anyone who wants em. G'night.