I No longer Have Rubber Bands In my Guts.

And that isn’t fine.

I went through all the trouble to have this problem dealt with, I purged my system (fucking unpleasant). I waited for hours in the damn hospital. I had joint pains from the purging, a phenomena I have never experienced before, goddess I hope I don’t ever get arthritis. Had an IV stuck in me and I had one of my reactions to being needled, necessitating being put in a bed. And all that work may have been undone by a bad shit. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!

Now I have to see if I bleed from the ass again and, if I do, it is hernia fight round two at the hospital. Damn this horseshit to Hades. Great.


I Have Rubber Bands In My Guts.

And I don’t feel fine.

Hernia’s aren’t fun to get rid of. Who knew? Painful rubber bands in your sure guts are painful.

I am not sure if my idea to post on a blog I made specifically to make comments is a decision brought on by pain, the drugs I’m still on, or the mild exhaustion with the inability to sleep but, fuck it, we’ll do it live and see if anything comes of it.