Here we are at the Mayo Clinic in North Phoenix. A needle is jammed in my left arm while staff infuses…uhmmm…some kind of gunk into me. No one has been kind enough to bother to explain what these torture sessions are meant to accomplish…only that I get dragged back here about every ten days for another one…and another one…and another one. Boy-o-boy, could I do without this!!
After 10 years in disease-ridden Saudi Arabia being jabbed — over and over and over again — with every painful inoculation known to science, I deeply hate shots and needles. So…even though the Mayo’s procedures are relatively pain-free, they fill me with dread and misery.
Meanwhile, my son and I are quarreling — we had a nasty squabble on the way over here — and so at the moment I’m passing miserable, He has stalked off, relieving himself of my (admittedly) obnoxious company. So I’m sitting here in the dark soaking up…whatever goop they’re pumping into my left arm.
Honestly. It’s getting to be past time for me to exit this earthly realm. Just now that option looks more and more attractive.
Unfortunately, women in my family who didn’t smoke and didn’t fu*k every dong that came along have lived to VERY advanced old age. They were Christian Scientists, so they accomplished this with no medical care.
So if you don’t imagine that was God’s doing, then you can suspect I have a lot of years ahead of me.
Presumably pretty miserable years….
Well, it feels like I’ve been trying to type this one-handed for years…so: away!