The last two vacations I took, it happened. My body decided to take a vacation, thus leaving me weak and dizzy in bed while it went out and had some personal time with that cute redhead at the bagel shop.
That's right. My body feels no regret leaving me behind while it portends to have a good time.
So be it.
I tried arising from my bed two, three, five times to no avail.
And the problem with being this diluted, it limits my appetite when food would make me feel half past decent.
I managed to shower, clean myself up and head out to Gottschalks to find a new wallet.
(You may remember that my last one fell out of my pocket back in June and some lowlife tried to fill up their gas tank with my debit card. Loser squared.)
So there I was, about to benefit because Gottschalks is in bankruptcy proceedings, or going out of business, or maybe just trying to fool us all to bolster sales.
Whatever the case, I found my new slim, leather wallet originally worth $45 for $20.
For those of you playing along at home, it took seven months to buy a new wallet.
In my defense, Dialysis is slowly killing me.
Tonight at treatment they seated me very closely next to Humongous Gout Dude.
Every treatment he kicks off his shoes and allows his aromatic feet to disgust everyone within eyeshot.
Then, as I was being removed, he just stared at me, mouth agape, drooling slightly and smelling of Lays Potato Chips, his nutrition of choice during treatment.
Of the many personality traits of patients I loathe, after everything I've experienced during my tenure here, that is numero uno.
Here's a little tip to the staff at my excellent clinic: No. Frickin'. Staring. Allowed.
There used to be a rule that no guests were allowed during hookup or release of the needles.
I've seen their look of contempt. Its simple to read it in their eyes.
"I'm glad I'm not you."
The staff wonders why this makes me so angry when people observe me as their own personal car wreck.
Close your eyes, imagine you're in pain and people are gawking.
Go ahead. I'll wait.
None too fun, is it?
This concludes this entry for Stacy Vacation 2009 Day 3, which I really am regretting about starting in the first place.
(Note to self: In the future, don't blog about your vacation. Its just a cruel reminder of the life that I no longer have.)