I go under the knife on July 2 at the veteran’s hospital here in Long Beach. They are going to strip (ugh) the veins in my legs. I've lived with them (the veins) since I was 21 and it's getting just to painful to stand for more than 10 minutes at a time. The doctor said I'd go "in," in the morning and "out" later that afternoon. It should take about a week to recover.
Hanging out at the Veterans hospital has given me mixed feeling about the operation, on one hand I want to get it over with but on the other hand, I keep having this strange feeling that there will be some simple mistake on my chart and they accidentally amputate both my legs and when I sue the hospital the judge throws out my case saying that "Oh well, you win some, and you lose some"
I then let my hair grow down to my shoulders, and wear a "American flag" bandanna, grow a beard, and hang out at biker bars living off hand outs and cleaning suv's windshields that stop at traffic lights with old news papers and "people" magazines that I dig out of old, beat up dirty trash cans. A big breasted Asian hooker with long black hair by the name of "Honey" takes pity on me and lets me move into her one roomed apartment with her two cats. One who slightly responses to "Boo-boo" and the other who hasn't quite figured out how the litter box works. Honey's single bed is too small and cluttered with old dirty laundry, for the both of us so I have to sleep propped up in my wheel chair with pillows that were given to Honey by a "has been" child TV star from the '50's.
I acquired my wheel chair from a extremely large black Salvation Army volunteer nurse, who although she was very friendly, had in fact never shaved any part of her body for the last twelve years; "Cause it just ain't natural"
There's an Old English pub "The Farthing" on the corner where Honey "works" most every night. Above the door is the large red neon sign that flashes on and off every few seconds, which no matter what I do, always manages to shines through a 6 inch tear in the curtain that drapes across the lone cracked window in the room. I wouldn't mine so much, only the "H" is burnt out. Since I can't reach the knobs in the shower Honey gives me a sponge bath with a washcloth every few days or so, which gives me something to look forward too. Lately she has started to wash the dirty dishes and me at the same time, she says it "saves water" I have to admit, she's smarter than she lets on.
Sometimes I hang out by the hospital parking lot and try and bum some placebo's off the guys coming out, I know they probably won't do much good about growing my legs back, but at least they take the pain away and help me forget. I don't think the VA gets the "good ones" as I have to take more and more, and the effect wears off after a short time. Yesterday I met an intern who says that for a price, she can get me some "sugar pills" Don't know if I want to experiment with something that strong as I read somewhere that they are very addictive, but worse than that they can cause "your face to break out" Honey insists that she 'Loves me, no shit" and I'm inclined to believe her. I know that she will leave me as soon as something better "walks by," but for now I'm counting my blessing.
I’ll let you know how the operation comes out….
No comments:
Post a Comment