I have a hole in my leg. It's not new, but it's there. I decided to make this a new fashion statement. It's big enough to put something small into it. Like a few quarters. Slap some tape over it, I'm a walking change purse, capable of buying a cheap soda at Wal-Mart.
The condition I'm currently suffering is called Venous Stasis. Yay! Sounds like Venus, and people think I am talking about being in a sleeping chamber on Venus, because I like writing Science Fiction.
Feel free to go to any search engine that picks up on images. Search for Venous Stasis. Warning: Don't do so while eating any form of meat, or pasta with tomato sauce. You will puke.
For some really fun but true imagery, I have it in both legs! Two for the price of one!
It's not from blood clot blockage. It's from bad veins not evacuating the fluids from my calves, which are now highly purple and opening up with swiss-cheese like holes.
My 19 year old daughter gets completely grossed out when I put a finger inside one of the holes and wiggle it around. Free flowing fluids tend to squirt as well when I do that, and I offer free drinks, while holding a shot glass. No, I'm not really offering them my leg juice, but they think so. I don't have the heart to correct their perception, and when they flee, I chug the bottle lemonade all by myself.
I'm ranting about it because unlike most of the other health issues I suffer from, all the way from 4/21/2001 to today, this one isn't painful. Nope. The term 'painful' implies a high degree of discomfort.
This is much, much worse. It makes a third degree burn feel like a minor itch. I'm not exaggerating. I've suffered from 3rd degree burns before.
I can't get any relief from the Doctor. I might get addicted.
I can't get any relief from the corner drug dealer. I'm too broke, and he even says it's bad for my liver.
I can't get any relief until something turns green with black spots. Then they amputate.
My rant is almost done. I'm not here to garner sympathy. I'm not typing this up to see how much wincing I can cause at different points across planet Earth. I'm ranting this out because among all of this agonizing pillow biting closet screaming daughter freaking out from leg juice hysteria, I'm trying to finish editing a 2nd edition re-write and starting another comedy.
Thank you for listening.
As for the Judge in 2007 who denied my disability benefits, when my legs come off in the future, I will have a taxidermist stuff them with a mixture of wood and cement. Then I'll wheel my chair into the judge's chamber and beat him up with my own legs.
I have a hole in my leg. It's not new, but it's there. I decided to make this a new fashion statement. It's big enough to put something small into it. Like a few quarters. Slap some tape over it, I'm a walking change purse, capable of buying a cheap soda at Wal-Mart.
The condition I'm currently suffering is called Venous Stasis. Yay! Sounds like Venus, and people think I am talking about being in a sleeping chamber on Venus, because I like writing Science Fiction.
Feel free to go to any search engine that picks up on images. Search for Venous Stasis. Warning: Don't do so while eating any form of meat, or pasta with tomato sauce. You will puke.
For some really fun but true imagery, I have it in both legs! Two for the price of one!
It's not from blood clot blockage. It's from bad veins not evacuating the fluids from my calves, which are now highly purple and opening up with swiss-cheese like holes.
My 19 year old daughter gets completely grossed out when I put a finger inside one of the holes and wiggle it around. Free flowing fluids tend to squirt as well when I do that, and I offer free drinks, while holding a shot glass. No, I'm not really offering them my leg juice, but they think so. I don't have the heart to correct their perception, and when they flee, I chug the bottle lemonade all by myself.
I'm ranting about it because unlike most of the other health issues I suffer from, all the way from 4/21/2001 to today, this one isn't painful. Nope. The term 'painful' implies a high degree of discomfort.
This is much, much worse. It makes a third degree burn feel like a minor itch. I'm not exaggerating. I've suffered from 3rd degree burns before.
I can't get any relief from the Doctor. I might get addicted.
I can't get any relief from the corner drug dealer. I'm too broke, and he even says it's bad for my liver.
I can't get any relief until something turns green with black spots. Then they amputate.
My rant is almost done. I'm not here to garner sympathy. I'm not typing this up to see how much wincing I can cause at different points across planet Earth. I'm ranting this out because among all of this agonizing pillow biting closet screaming daughter freaking out from leg juice hysteria, I'm trying to finish editing a 2nd edition re-write and starting another comedy.
Thank you for listening.
As for the Judge in 2007 who denied my disability benefits, when my legs come off in the future, I will have a taxidermist stuff them with a mixture of wood and cement. Then I'll wheel my chair into the judge's chamber and beat him up with my own legs.
The jail time will be well worth it, imo.