Well, um.

[fuzzybluemonkeys]

I'm alive? Yes, I think alive would about describe it.
So, now that I've had two of these fuckers, and they found gorram bloody nothing both times, that means I never have to have one ever again. Fuck that every five years shit, man. I'm frelling done. What magical cause is going to magically appear between now and then? I have what I have, and what I have is the thing they tell you you have after they don't find anything else. I give up. They're not gonna find anything else because there is nothing else. I'm doomed to have all the things I ingest come out while accompanied by horrifying pain, and really, deep down, I knew that. I know that. And it's not worth the fucking puke-barf-o-rama to confirm it. So I just keep on doing what I've been doing. Eating what I want, when I want, and knowing where the fucking bathroom is at all times. Because colonoscopies? Are so not worth the effort to tell me something that I already know.

Let me know when they move on from that artificial heart nonsense, and get cracking on the artificial intestines.

Comments

[tobimonkee.livejournal.com]

maybe house and wilson can find you a miricle cure