sick of me, sick of you

6 moths ago I was healthy. Now I have one lung, pneumonia, diabetes, anemia, a hernia so big the docs can’t wait to write it up for the journals. Yesterday I found out my diagram doesn’t work, nor does my esophagus.

So no big deal, it’s my turn now, I been taking care of 3 disabled kids and a mom with Alzheimer’s  for many years. Doctors, procedures, vomit, evil insurance companies are my life. So what’s different about this? You don’t care. I’m a saint when I deal with autism, ID, suicide attempts, etc.  But when I tell you that I can’t breathe and the room is going black you interrupt me to tell me about how your jaguar has a tear in the underside of the seat.

So fuck you, go buy a new one and no I can’t help you pick the color. I have to fill out scores of paperwork so I can get transportation to my doctor’s appointment.

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